The Beast Is Unleashed
by punkydiva17
Summary: *Story Completed* What happens when Cassie Wallace is there to see Batista's meteoric rise to fame? Read and review, let me know what you think.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Too Much Credit**

Dave Batista stood, admiring his handiwork. He had dressed in black, appeared in a silver convertible and trashed the hell out of JBL's limo with a baseball bat, leaving the windows shattered and the bullhorns strewn about the arena parking lot. He peeked into the mirror, and fixed himself up as best as he could.

That's when he heard a giggle.

He turned around and saw her. She was about five foot four, not thin, but not huge, with long, waving caramel colored hair and huge brown eyes. She was wearing an emerald green flowing top and black bell-bottom pants with open-toed shoes and diamond earrings. He didn't recognize her, but he was pretty sure she was a new Diva.

"Man," she laughed, "Cena told me you did a number on Bradshaw's limo, but I had no idea..." she laughed. "You sure know how to make an impact." She extended her right hand for him to shake. "Cassie Wallace."

"I'm..."

"Dave Batista. 2005 Royal Rumble winner. You are probably the hottest free agent in WWE at this given moment." He nodded, impressed that she knew the stats. She took a step in front of him and surveyed the car. "So, this is what happens when people try to run you over," she observed. He nodded, feeling a slight rush of embarassment come over him for losing his head. Then he sensed her hesitation.

"What?"

"I hate to be the one to break this to you, but I think you're giving JBL way too much credit."

"What, are you actually trying to tell me that JBL didn't try and run me down on Monday night?" he demanded. She could sense his growing impatience and he could sense her demeanor shrinking before him.

"Why do you think he did it? Because of a white limo with bullhorns on the hood?" He didn't need to answer; she knew everything she needed to know just by the look in his eyes. "Look, Dave, I am a SmackDown! Diva, and Cena, Angle and I we've all talked about it. JBL does not have the guts to pull of something like that. We know; we see him week in and week out."

"He sure has been running his mouth lately," Batista informed her.

"But running your mouth and acting out on it are two completely different things," she argued. "You used to be a bouncer; you of all people should know that."

He nodded, stroking his chin. "You're arguing he was set up. By who?"

"Think of the limo."

"Cabinet?"

"They're small-time. You're assuming that they used JBL's limo."

"You're thinking one was made?"

"Well, the white limo is easy. Horns might be tough, but not impossible," she informed him.

"So who would have access to that kind of power?"

"For that you would have to look into your own camp."

"You mean, somebody from Raw?" he asked. But from the look on her face, it was clear she had said too much.

"I have to go. Good luck with your decision," she murmured.

"Wait -" he called out, but she had entered through the back of the arena.

"You didn't."

"I told him what I thought. He can take it for what it's worth."

Cassie was sipping a coffee with John Cena in the backstage area. John Cena was incredulous over her meeting with "the Animal". "So you really don't think JBL was behind it?" Cena asked.

"Oh, come on. You and I both know that JBL is a chickenshit," she replied. "Now, let me put this to you. If you were JBL, would you want Batista to come to SmackDown to face you in a triple threat match at WrestleMania?"

"Hell no," Cena replied. "With each person added to the equasion, your chances of walking out with the championship diminish."

"That is precisely it. Why would JBL try and bait Batista here to have a thirty three and a third percent chance of walking out of WrestleMania with his championship?" Cena nodded at the logic. "Now, if you were Triple H, would you want to take on your hand-picked enforcer at WrestleMania?"

"Batista would lay down for Triple H," Cena replied. Cassie shot him a look, and he almost instantly retracted his statement."Okay, maybe not."

"Exactly."

"So you think Triple H is trying to ship him here?"

"After all these years, Triple H has that kind of power. Anyway, to get rid of a threat to his championship, he'd arrange a trip to Timbuktu."

Batista was driving on his way back to the hotel, the cold Pittsburgh air aiding in keeping him awake behind the wheel. He tried to turn on the radio, but was greeted with some sappy country. He kept fiddling around with the dial until the soothing melody of Linkin Park's "Numb" filled the car.

She was a cutie, but she seemed a little enigmatic. Her words were very veiled. Look into your own camp. Who on Raw would want him gone?

Randy Orton had nothing to gain, he was out of the championship contention now that he had won the Royal Rumble, and Edge was crazy, but things hadn't picked up yet. He could understand Triple H; after all, he was damn sure that Triple H knew that he wasn't going to lay down for him to keep the championship. Not like the time Shawn Michaels laid down for him so he could win the European title. This was not DX and it was time for him to start thinking forward. Triple H and Ric Flair were starting to question his loyalty anyway. And it was all Eric Bischoff's fault for sticking him in that Elimination Chamber in January. He remembered how Triple H had that opportunity to help him, but didn't. With an exhale, he turned the car into the parking lot of the hotel and proceeded for a long night of thinking ahead of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Decision**

"...And it's all going to go to waste if that big idiot stays on Raw..."

Dave Batista stood just out of view of his Evolution bandmates, a smirk crossing his face. In the last span of five minutes, he had just heard Triple H confess to everything - the limo, the videotapes, everything. But it was nothing that he didn't know already.

Randy Orton tuned him in at New Year's Revolution, except for the fact that he would never admit to Randy Orton that he was right about something. With the way that Orton was, Batista knew that it would go straight to his head and make him harder to deal with than he already was. So he'd decided to just keep quiet about that.

But then there she was. Cassie. He had read her name on The caramel haired beauty who had met him in the parking lot the night he ravaged the limo. She had told him "look into your own camp." Combine that with Randy Orton's proclamation that Triple H did not give a damn about him, it only heightened his paranoia and perception on his "friends" in the Evolution faction. Batista was almost certain that the World Heavyweight Championship was Triple H's primary concern. Not him, not Evolution, nothing. It was a great thing to realize only minutes away from the WrestleMania contract signing.

Mind you, he wasn't too sure if he minded going to SmackDown! Yeah, the triple threat idea seemed stupid, but he was pretty sure that he wouldn't mind getting to know Cassie a little better. But, something inside him told him that he wanted to unleash the beast on Triple H's conniving ass. No wonder all of Triple H's factions fell through; he was always stabbing his cohorts in the back. Take Randy Orton, for example. The happiest night of his life was ruined by a three-on-one beatdown. But that was how Triple H worked; never let them know when you were coming, never let them know what you were thinking. And Batista was going to be damned if Triple H thought that he was going to pull the wool over his eyes and send him to SmackDown. He was going to be damned to be Triple H's lackey any longer if he was nothing more than a pawn.

Batista smiled. The plan was in motion.

Cassie emerged from the shower, changed into a pink dress. She was drying her hair vigorously with a blue towel, anxiously making her way to the couch in her locker room so that she could watch Batista make the decision. Since she had met him several weeks back, she had been so fascinated by every aspect of him.

JBL was still bitching about his limo being wrecked. He wanted Theodore Long to pay for it. Teddy just told him to charge it to "The Game" considering he was the one that got JBL into that predicament as it was. That seemed to pacify JBL somewhat, as his bitching was now kept to having John Cena as an opponent at WrestleMania. He knew his days as champion were numbered. Cassie had seen the change come over John Cena. He was more focused, more intense than ever. He had finally defeated Kurt Angle for the first time ever to get to where he was and she doubted Cena was the type to just let it all slide.

She watched in sheer joy as Batista decided to stay on Raw, and informed Triple H, using the Batista Bomb through a table to drill home the point. A few minutes after the show went off of the air, there was a knock on the door. "Come on in!" she cried out.

John Cena walked in. "What's the verdict?"

"You and JBL one on one at WrestleMania."

"Thank God," he replied with an exhale, sinking down to the couch. He was relieved, to say the least. "That's terrific. I could take JBL, but Batista...that was a question mark."

"At the end of the day, giving Triple H a payback outdoes any sort of desire to kick the snot out of the Doctor of Thuganomics," she informed him.

"I'll remember that," he replied. He stared at her. "Teddy wanted me to ask you: he wanted to know if you were interested in participating in tag team action next month in England."

"Who's involved?"

"You and Torrie Wilson against Dawn Marie and Joy Giovanni."

"Yeah. You can tell him it's on."

"Great." Cena stood up and prepared to take his leave. He turned to face her. "Oh, and when the time comes, I'll get you backstage to Raw, too." She smiled and he disappeared out the door.


	3. WrestleMania 21

**Chapter Three: WrestleMania 21**

Cassie entered the Staples arena, looking like an old-fashioned movie starlet. She had her hair done a la Marilyn Monroe, and she wore a long, sleek white halter dress that sparkled and glittered, accentuated with diamond earrings and a diamond choker. She was supposed to be doing some interviews for the bonus features of the WrestleMania 21 DVD that would be out the following month. So she would be interviewing SmackDown's John Cena, Rey Mysterio or Eddie Guerrero, Big Show and Theodore Long about hosting his first WrestleMania.

She was on her way towards the tech room to get her microphone wired when she heard, "Excuse me, excuse me!"

She turned around to face Raw Superstar Chris Jericho, who later that night would be performing in the best match of the night, the six-way Money in the Bank ladder match. "Wow. Chris Jericho," she replied excitedly. "I've always been a huge fan."

"Thanks," he replied, slightly befuddled. "Are you Cassie?"

"Last time I checked my Driver's license," she replied. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm really sorry to bother you, but it's about Batista."

"Batista?" she asked. Jericho nodded. "What's the matter with him?"

"He's really nervous about his match right now and he is actually asking for you."

She had to admit, she was actually flattered by it. But she put that aside and replied, "Thanks, Jericho. I guess I should get myself over there then." She turned away from the technical booth and began to make her way down the hall towards the locker room, when Chris Jericho's voice rang out, causing her to stop.

"Don't you find it weird?"

She turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's only hours away from the biggest match of his life, and he's asking for a SmackDown Diva to come and visit him?" he asked. "You don't find it weird?"

She thought about it for a second. "No." She went to walk away but she turned around. "Good luck tonight, Jericho. I'm rooting for you." He smiled and she disappeared down the hallway.

Batista was still getting ready. His blazer was hung up on a cubby hook, and he was dressed in pinstripe slacks and a white shirt. He was digging his gear out of the bag, trying to get his bearings straight. Last year, he was mid-carding WrestleMania with Randy, Ric, Rock and Mick, and this year, he was actually headlining it. Against Hunter, no less. His teacher, his mentor, his... well, ex-friend. Batista wasn't too familiar with the idea of allies and friends, but he knew the definition well enough to know that friends don't try to run each other down.

There was a timid knock on the door. "Yeah?" he called out. It was probably Bischoff, ready to explain to him about the importance of outshining SmackDown tonight.

Instead, Cassie pushed the door open softly and made her way into the room. His face lit up. She looked like an angel, the perennial vision in white. "Jericho found you?"

"Yeah. So I thought I would stop in before I had to go get my mic. What's on your mind?" She felt so shy. This was the first time they had faced since he had demolished JBL's limo with that baseball bat.

"I wanted to say thank you," he replied. "For...well, the warning on SmackDown."

"There's a reason Hunter's factions never work," she replied. "You can't trust him." He nodded. She seemed to know a lot about Triple H. She stared at him intently. "Relax, it's not gonna kill you," she replied. He chuckled.

"WrestleMania," he replied in his defense. She nodded.

"I got that, but the last thing you want to do is go into the ring and throw up on Triple H...it'd be funny, but I'm pretty sure not a WrestleMania moment you or Hunter will want to remember." He smiled and shook his head; she had a point. He needed to loosen up. "Go do a few minutes on the treadmill or get cozy with the free weights, and relax." He nodded. "I'll see you later." She went to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist gently. She turned to face him, slightly surprised.

"Are you going to be here after the match?"

"Do you want me to be here after your match?" she asked. He nodded. "Then I'll be here when you come through that door with the World Heavyweight Championship." He nodded and she left.

It was nearing the end of the night, and already she had interviewed Big Show, Rey Mysterio, and Teddy. She had just watched John Cena win the championship, ending JBL's nine-month reign of terror over SmackDown. Any minute, Cena would be making his way into the room, and then she had to run to Batista's locker room.

Cena slid into the room and everybody applauded him. "The champ is here!" he called out. It had been a rough month for Cena; aside from losing his United States Championship to Chief of Staff Orlando Jordan and having it blown up, he'd been slapped with a non-aggression penalty for hitting the F-U on Teddy Long and JBL had him arrested three days prior to this for spraypainting JBL Sucks on his limo.

"John Cena, congratulations on winning your first ever WWE Championship here at WrestleMania. With your album on the way, a movie in the works and the WWE Championship around your waist. How are you feeling?"

"Dead tired," he replied in a voice that could be characteristically known as John Cena. "But the fact of the matter is that the champ is here! To all the members of my Chain Gang who had my back, this one's for you. Thank you, and I'd fight for you again in a heartbeat." Cena stepped out of camera frame and they stopped rolling the cameras after Cassie's conclusion. She took off her microphones and ran to give Cena a hug.

"You going to see the Big Guy?" Cena asked. She pulled back and stared up at him, nodding.

"Yeah. He actually asked me to be there when he comes back." Cena looked at her intently. "Don't even," she said. "He asked, I told him I would. Nobody should be alone when they win their first championship." Cena smiled.

"Ain't that the truth," he replied.

"What are your plans for the night?"

"Painting the town so red I won't remember it in the morning," he replied. "Hit a bottle of JD, call the fam, you know how it goes." She nodded and laughed. "You?"

"Probably calling the family. I couldn't handle JD if I tried." Cena laughed. "I'll see you Thursday. Try not to get too hammered." They laughed, knowing that wasn't going to be possible on this given night.

He opened the door and she was there. She had let her hair down since leaving the interview room and it fell around her face in a seductive way. It was the gel and the hairspray. She wished it didn't look like it did - or feel for that matter, it felt like straw - but she just went with it. Still holding the World Heavyweight Championship, he walked towards her and hugged her tightly. She was slightly taken aback, but slowly she hugged him back.

"Thank you for everything," he replied. She was baffled. She had no idea what the hell she had done that was so important. She just smiled and nodded.

"The SmackDown champion says congratulations, and if you want to meet him later, he's hitting a bottle of Jack Daniels at that club just outside of L.A." Batista knew the one. Hell, she did, too, but she couldn't remember the name at that given moment.

"What about you?"

"Stacy and Torrie wanted to go out tonight, so I thought I would join them." They didn't really, but going out and getting hammered with the champs didn't strike her as a night she would ever want to embark on. "So, have fun tonight and good luck at Backlash. You know Triple H will be gunning for that gold back." Batista nodded. "Bye, Dave." With that, she pulled open the doors and was gone.


	4. Next Week At The Garden

**Chapter Four: Next Week at the Garden...**

Cassie was happy to have that time by herself at home on Monday night. It had been a hell of a week. With WWE promoting an upcoming tour to England, they had started pushing her through training and media appearances all week. Now, mentally and physically exhausted, she was happy to just collapse on her couch and watch Monday night Raw.

She usually watched Raw, but since WrestleMania 21, she found herself becoming more addicted to the competition. Well, more addicted to a six-foot-five champion, but she wasn't prepared to admit that to herself just yet. Anyway, there was a lot going on with SmackDown. Kurt had lost his damn mind, and now he was going after Booker T's new wife, Sharmell. And the tag team champions Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio were starting to fall apart, rapidly. And of course, there was Carlito, who just made more problems for everybody. Did more harm than good and Cassie wasn't sure about whether or not he was knowledgeable of it.

So she sat on her leather couch in her living room, curled up under a baby pink fleece blanket, her hair in a messy ponytail, scrubbed out in pajamas, eating a bowl of ice cream, watching Monday night Raw. She was absolutely horrified to learn that the following week, when Raw made its stop off at the greatest arena of all time, Madison Square Garden, Triple H would be taking on Raw's greatest commentator alive, Jim Ross. When the camera closed up, she could see Batista seething, even reading the words, "You son of a bitch," coming from his mouth. She instantly became concerned. Triple H was one of the most violent human beings on the planet. His track record of battered bodies spoke for themselves; Shawn Michaels, Goldberg, Randy Orton, The Rock, the Undertaker. Jim Ross was nothing more than a play-by-play man; he had nothing to prove by doing this.

She shut off the TV. Some nights when she watched Raw, she really hated Triple H. Granted, he had so many years behind him that he was easily this generation's Ric Flair, but some nights...some nights she just wanted to strangle him.

Placing her bowl in her kitchen sink, she went into her bedroom and set the alarm. SmackDown would be taping tomorrow, and then she had three more days of appearances and shows. She went into her bedroom and climbed under her blankets. She fumbled in the darkness for her stereo remote and turned on the stereo, which soon filled the room with the soft melody of "Through Glass" by Stone Sour. She lay her head back against the pillow and shut her eyes...

...RING!...RING!...

Her eyes snapped open. "Oh, this is not cool," she murmured. She rolled over and picked up the phone receiver. "Yeah?"

"Cassie? Dave Batista here..."

"Dave?" She sat upright. "How did you get my number?"

"Cena gave it to me. I hope you don't mind. I just wanted to ask you if you saw what happened on Raw tonight."

"Yeah, I did," she replied, completely forgetting the urge to shoot John Cena at that moment. "Dave, you have to promise me that you'll be there to help J.R."

"I gotta work that out with Bischoff, Cassie. I'm trying though. I don't want to see J.R. get hurt any more than you do," he assured her. "But matches have rules." He could sense her annoyance; his tone had come off patronizing and he didn't want that. "I mean, I guarantee you I'll make sure J.R. doesn't get hurt." Now he was beating himself up on the other end of the phone. Boy, he felt so stupid for saying that.

"Okay, Dave." Her tone was calm, caring and somewhat happy. He had to admire that. Sometimes the business had a way of ruining somebody's view on things. "I can't believe Bischoff would let this stand. I guess if he'll put Randy Orton against the Fabulous Moolah, he'll let anything go."

He was impressed by her memory, especially considering she wasn't with the company at the time. "You a fan?"

"My whole life," she answered.

"How long have you known Cena for?" he asked.

"Since 2004. When he came down to OV to work that knee injury out." Batista remembered that period well. Cena had torn his PCL getting thrown out of the ring at the Royal Rumble by the Big Show. It had caused him to run around with that awkward brace on his knee for two months. "We became good friends down there. He gave me a few pointers on working in the ring, so when I got called up to SmackDown, it was a total honor to know I'd have friends there."

"How is life on SmackDown?"

"You don't watch."

"I try to, but miss on occasions," he lied. Truth of the matter was, he didn't care for the SmackDown brand all that much.

"Chaos with a capital C," she informed him. "JBL's still pestering Cena, Angle's chasing after Booker's new wife, Eddie Guerrero has lost his mind, and Carlito's pissing off the Big Show to gargantuan proportions." He laughed. "And on the Raw side?"

"Michaels still wants Angle, Orton wants to kick my ass and Taker's, maybe not in that order. I got Edge with that stupid briefcase, and I have to live with the knowledge at all times that he could cash in that sucker at any given moment. Then there's Triple H, J.R., all the flirtatious Divas...Raw's pretty much...Raw."

She laughed. "Enjoying the idea of being a marked man, Dave?" she asked.

"I'm not marked," he insisted. "I'm nobody's victim."

"Good to hear."

"Hey, what are you doing for Backlash?"

"Probably ordering it in."

"Why don't you come out to New Hampshire for it?"

"I don't know. A SmackDown Diva at a Raw show? Bischoff would probably make me compete."

"You'll be my special guest and Bischoff doesn't like tangling with me. Come on, what do you say?"

"I say it sounds like a plan." There was a pause on her end of the line. "You getting ready for Triple H-Batista II?" she made an ominous tone come to her voice and he laughed at the tone.

"Yeah. Hunter and Ric are pretty sure I'm a fluke."

"Well, I can't wait to see you prove them wrong."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, I should let you go. I was just getting ready to go to sleep. I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning to Texas. Cena and I are teaming against JBL and Amy."

"Okay. Talk to you later, Cassie."

"Bye, Dave." She hung up the phone and lay back in the bed. It wasn't very long before sleep consumed her racing mind.


	5. The Rescue

**Chapter Five: The Rescue**

With an ear-piercing squeal, the long, sleek black limousine peeled down the ramp and into the back loading area of Madison Square Garden. Screeching to a stop, the driver's door swung open and the World Heavyweight Champion emerged, his brown eyes blazing like a wildfire. With the attitude of a soldier going to war, he slammed the door shut and began making his way down the back hallway, past the locker rooms.

Everybody stayed back. They had seen him like this before, and it was definitely him at this point that nobody wanted to cross him. He was usually nice enough; mellow, soft-spoken. But when you made him mad...well, that was it. All bets were off.

He made his way through the hallway, ripping at his tie and tearing at his shirt, preparing to take on the blond bully in the ring. He hated bullies. Hated them so much. He made his way past the technical crew and the DJ and up the steps.

Triple H saw he had arrived and it had distracted him away from the bloody and battered Jim Ross. He was facing the ramp when the violent electric guitar strummed and he was beckoning him to come for him. Batista snapped out of the curtain like a bat out of hell and stormed down the ring, ripping his shirt off and threw it to the floor. He slid into the ring, trading punches back and forth with Triple H. He pummeled on "The Game" to the extent that Triple H was soon laid out unconscious in the middle of the ring. After a moment of brief hesitation, he grabbed J.R.'s battered and mangled body and dragged it to the middle of the ring, draping the left arm over Triple H. He looked at the referee and pointed down at the canvas.

"Count."

The referee slid down and made the count. The bell rang and Batista's music blared through the arena, and the fans were going absolutely insane. J.R. was assisted to his feet and Batista held his arm up, but J.R. collapsed to the ground. When the cameras went off, he draped one of J.R.'s arms around his shoulders and helped him backstage to the trainer's room.

"Talk about cutting it close to the wire."

Batista looked up at Jerry Lawler, who was getting his lip iced after a fist from Ric Flair. He was still a little woozy, too, for he had taken a Pedigree from Triple H. "I got here as soon as I could," Batista said in his defense. "Triple H arranged me to get a nice scenic tour of New York City." He looked over at Jim Ross, who was being stitched up. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I'll take him for a drink at the end of the night," Jerry told him. "Celebrate - you know, it's not everyday a color commentator gets a pinfall victory over Triple H." They laughed, but Batista couldn't seem to get the feeling of guilt from his mind. He nodded.

"Take it easy you guys," he told them. He turned away and walked out.

Cassie carried her stuff out to her car. She had just done an autograph signing with John Cena. She was really happy to be doing all this work with her good friend. She slammed the trunk and wheeled around to bump into John Cena. "Hey."

"Did you get to see J.R. and Hunter?"

"No. Did you?"

"No. I was hoping you saw. Anyway, I got some news for you."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"Guess who will be in London for next Monday's Raw?"

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I talked to Teddy, got you the night off, and then I talked to Batista and he'll meet you at the arena. Bischoff's cool with it, but I don't think Batista would really give him a choice in the matter." Cassie smiled.

"No. I guess not." She smiled. "Thanks, Cena."

"No problem," he answered, slinging his championship over his shoulder. "Anything for a good friend."

"You talking about me or Batista?"

"Yeah...I guess that could work either way, huh?" he replied. She nodded. "I don't know. Just enjoy the sights in London on Monday, because after that, you won't have much time. With the show on Tuesday and then leaving back for here on Wednesday..." She nodded.

"Will do, Cena. So I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"You know it," he replied. They gave each other a hug and she climbed into her car before driving away into the night.


	6. On A Rainy Night in London

**Chapter Six: On A Rainy Night In London...**

Cassie surveyed her outfit for the fiftieth time that day. She had dressed up in a peacock blue halter top with a glittering gold trim and a black miniskirt. She had tied back her hair with a gold headband and she wore long, drooping hoops in her ears. She had done her makeup with a touch of blue across the eyes, a touch of beige along the cheeks and a splash of a purplish-pink gloss along her lips. Her nails were blue, and her shoes were knee-high and black with a large zipper that ran up along the inside.

She knew why she was being so fussy with her outfit. This was the first night she was meeting Batista since WrestleMania 21, and she wanted to look just as good on this night as she did then. If Cena were there, she knew he'd be laughing at her. He always did. She was sure he had a good idea of what was happening between her and Batista, but this time around, she supposed he had decided to keep quiet about it. Which was surprising, knowing how John Cena was.

She put on a black jacket and surveyed her appearance one more time. "Would you stop it?" she murmured to herself. "You're just going to see Raw." And him, her mind informed her. With a deep breath, she turned around and walked out of her hotel room, shutting off the lights behind her.

Batista was out in the middle of the ring, antagonizing Triple H. With each time that he raised Jim Ross' arm, the sheer hatred was showing up on Triple H's face. It brought great joy to Divas Christy Hemme and Candice Michelle. They turned to Cassie.

"Did you hear about what happened to the limo driver last week?" Candice asked.

"No," Cassie replied. "What?"

"Batista threw him out of the moving limo and just left him. Took off here to help J.R."

"Batista wouldn't do that. I'd like to think he has more of a conscience than that," Cassie informed Candice.

"Something happened to that limo driver," Candice informed her. Cassie stopped; she was right. But her eyes were focused on Jim Ross, and the stitches and bruising he had on his face. She felt just terrible for the man.

"So what brings you from SmackDown?" Christy asked.

"Thought I'd come and see what Raw has to offer," she replied noncommittedly. "I gotta run. I'll talk to you ladies later, okay?" They nodded and she left.

"Cassie?"

"Yeah, Cena got everything hammered out for me to come by early," she replied. "Wow. Did J.R. ever get beaten. Where were you?"

"Taking the scenic route of New York, thanks to Triple H," he told her. She nodded.

"What happened to the limo driver?" she asked.

"I threw his ass out moving along the highway," he told her. She stared at him, eyes wide and he laughed. "Don't think I haven't heard what the other Divas have been saying. That's not what happened. I made him stop the car at the Carnegie Deli and when he went in, I drove off on him...Man, the look on your face..." Even she had to laugh.

"Well, Candice..."

"Sometimes that girl needs to have her mouth nailed shut," he told her. "She likes to create stories here. Any Divas like that where you are?"

"Yeah, there are. Dawn Marie." He nodded.

"I guess you can't escape it," he replied. She nodded. "Your plans for tonight?"

"Not too sure. I've always wanted to ride a double-decker bus. I might do that. I have an entire night to enjoy myself before I have to be here tomorrow."

"Come here to enjoy the show and enjoy the scenery before you have to go to work?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "Anyway, I should go and take my seat for tonight. Good luck out there tonight."

"Yeah." He replied, and he watched her walk off.

He saw her standing in the rain at the bus stop. "You know, they invented cars so you didn't have to stand here."

She turned around and saw Batista. "I told you," she said, "I've always wanted to ride a double-decker bus."

"Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all. Actually I'd probably prefer the company at this time of the night," she answered. He nodded and stood at the bus stop with her. "Great job tonight."

"Thanks."

"Your plans for Backlash?"

"Whoop Triple H's ass."

"Good plan," she replied as the bus pulled up.

"Any specific destination?" he asked as they went up the stairs to the top part of the bus.

"Honestly? No." He laughed as they sat down. It was a practically empty bus except for maybe an elderly couple down below and a teenager six rows away from them. She was staring out the window, down to the brick streets of London. "How do you think Trish's date with Viscera went?"

"Probably disastrous. That girl will do anything to see to it that Lita gets destroyed."

"Well, with Lita using Kane on Trish so much, she has to do something," Cassie replied in Trish's defense.

"You ever met Trish?"

"Once. I came up for a dark match with Candice and she gave me a few pointers. She's a nice lady. At least she was to me."

"That's normally how she is," he told her. "After all her years of success here, she's still as humble as ever." She stared out the window and he draped an arm over the back of her seat. She felt a little uncomfortable and she turned around to look at him. "So...the draft lottery is coming up."

"Yeah. That's the time of the year where I'm always on edge," he replied. "This is your first draft lottery right?" She nodded. "Try not to worry so much. Divas normally don't get traded. Probably won't with the way that they're doing it this year."

"How are they doing it?"

"They let the GM pick week by week."

"Wow, that makes me feel safer." He pulled on the cord for the next stop. "What are you doing?"

"I thought we'd go for a coffee. Come on." They got up and began to make their way down to the bottom tier. They got off the bus and back out into the rain. By the time they walked the block and a half back to the restaraunt, her hair was plastered against her head, and her mascara was running, but to Batista, she looked beautiful.

"This is totally going to kick my ass tomorrow," she replied, sitting down in her wet clothing. He laughed.

"As long as you kick ass tomorrow, that's all that's important," he told her. She laughed as she cradled the mug of coffee in front of her. "They sure have you working with Cena a lot."

"It's because I'm feuding with Amy, who's JBL's image consultant and JBL's feuding with Cena."

"So the status on Amy's departure?"

"Confirmed. She'll be gone before Judgment Day. You gotta tell your boy Randy to lighten up on these Diva Search rejects. They just can't handle it." He laughed.

"Well, you know how the saying goes, 'If you can't take the heat...'"

"...'Stay the hell out of the kitchen'," she finished and they laughed. She took a sip of coffee.

"You look terrific tonight."

"It's a WWE Diva thing. Gotta uphold that glam. We all can't just throw on some baby oil and look like you." He laughed.

"Would probably make your job easier."

"Way."

They fell silent and sipped their coffee. "How do you enjoy being on SmackDown?" she asked.

"Great. Angle and Undertaker have been so helpful to me, along with Cena, Torrie, Jackie, Fit, all of them. I don't know what I would do without them. They've all been so great. Cena, especially. For the champion to waste his time giving me a hand, it's a real honor."

"So, he's got JBL coming up?" She nodded. "I quit?"

"First time WWE's had it in six years," she replied.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Last time was at the Royal Rumble. Rock-Mankind. Remember?"

"That's the one where he took the thirteen shots to the head, right?" he asked. She nodded. "Yeah, I remember. It's a miracle that man is still standing after everything he's taken."

"How did you like taking on him and the Rock at WrestleMania?" she asked.

"Well, considering it was more about Orton and Foley than Rock, Ric and I, I enjoyed it. WrestleMania at Madison Square Garden. Not a lot of Superstars can say they've done that."

"That's true," she admitted. "I've always wanted to compete in WrestleMania."

"It's everybody's dream here. You'll probably be in next year."

"Doubt it. I'm a SmackDown Diva. Unless I'm managing somebody, then I can't really see it happening."

"You ever thought about life on the Raw side?"

"I've thought about life on SmackDown. I love it there," she replied. "Teddy has been incredible, and everybody..." She shook her head. "Anyway, I am psyched to know that I have the Undertaker on my side! I've been a massive fan of his since I was a little girl. I just love him."

"Tell me you didn't get that starstruck when you met him."

"No...I actually fainted," she replied. He laughed.

"You didn't." She nodded, and he laughed at her.

"Thanks. Makes me feel better." She took a sip of coffee, laughing to herself at the memory. She had scared the hell out of the Undertaker, and Cena and Angle ribbed her about it for months. "I thought the Undertaker was going to have a heart attack when I went down. The last thing I could hear was that deep voice grumbling, 'You gonna be okay?'"

"Obviously not. You hit the floor!" Batista said and she laughed. They paid for their coffee and decided to walk back to the arena.

"So, Cassie. Short for Cassandra?"

"No. Just Cass. My mom didn't like the name Cassandra."

"So why Cassie?"

"Sounds a little more feminine." They were only a few blocks from the arena. She was freezing, so was he, but they were determined to spend some semblance of a night together, and this was the path that they had chosen. She was going to stand by it, even if it meant she had no voice, sniffles and a sneeze in the morning.

"Why did you get into this?"

"I love it. Always have, probably always will. I did amateur in high school. What about you?"

"I love it, too." He could see the arena ahead in the distance and he hated the sight of it. This meant the night was over. So far he knew so much about her. Cassie Wallace from Colombia, South Carolina. Birthday was April fifteenth, making her an Aries. Her favorite guys growing up were Undertaker, Koko B. Ware - because as she had told him - she loved the bird, and Jake "The Snake" Roberts - because, as she had told him again - she loved Damian, the snake.

She didn't know all that much about him, though. He didn't answer too much of her questions. Instead, he would get elusive and ask her questions and by the time she had answered hers, she had forgotten what she had asked him. It was odd; with him being so elusive, she wasn't feeling like he was. Things just felt so natural.

"Wow. Almost to the arena already," she replied. "Thank you so much for joining me tonight. It's nice to have some company. Especially when you know nobody in London."

He smiled. "Yeah. It was nice seeing you here for Raw."

"Well, I hope to see you come home to SmackDown sometime."

"Home?" he stared at her.

"If my memory serves me correctly, Deacon Bautista..." He groaned.

"You had to bring that up."

"If my memory serves me right, you started on SmackDown." He groaned.

"You're terrible."

She laughed as they made their way to the parking lot. "I guess I'll see you at SummerSlam," she told him. They were stopped in front of her rental car, a shining red Honda Civic. "Keep in touch, okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah, definitely. I'll see you." They slapped hands and went their separate ways.


	7. A Chat

**Chapter Seven: A Chat**

Dave Batista sat in the locker room area of the arena, laptop folded in front of him. He was logged in as John Cena. Cena was okay with this, of course, as Cena's Raw transfer allowed Cena to be sitting beside Batista. "Oh, look, Cassie's online. It's her night off, so I've been waiting for this. Just click here and type what you want to say, okay?" Batista nodded. He had to admit; he was clueless when it came to computers. So he just followed instructions.

The Champ Is Here: Hey, Cassie.

Cassie: Cena! OMG!

The Champ Is Here: Actually, it's Batista. Cena's with me, though. Want me to say hi.

Cassie: Yeah. Hi, Dave. What's up? Hi, Cena, we miss you here on SmackDown!

Cena laughed. "You can tell her I miss them, too."

The Champ Is Here: Cena says he misses you guys on SmackDown, too. How are you doing?

Cassie: Happy now. I've been so upset since we lost Cena. I hate Eric Bischoff!

The Champ Is Here: I can imagine. You should try to come over to Raw.

Cassie: Sorry, boys. I got that brand loyalty thing going on. I'd rather work for Theodore.

The Champ Is Here: Rats.

Cassie: Is this really Batista, or are you ribbing me, Cena? Cause if you're ribbing me, I swear to God...

The Champ Is Here: No, Cassie. Cena's with me, but it's Batista.

Cassie: Prove it.

The Champ Is Here: Well, you've always wanted to ride on a double decker bus...

Cassie: Hi, Dave. How are my champs doing?

The Champ Is Here: Great. We're just doing our tour in Spain right now. Thought we'd see if you were online to keep you company.

Cassie: Well, I have to admit this has made my day. Great job with Triple H at Backlash. Can't wait to see you two in Hell in a Cell at Vengeance.

The Champ Is Here: Thanks.

Cassie: Tell Cena that he's got Jericho and Christian in the bag. They're nothing.

He turned to Cena. "Got your own personal cheerleader here," he told him. Cena laughed.

"If you ever go to SmackDown, she can be yours," he teased. They laughed.

The Champ Is Here: Cena says thanks for the optimism. He hates Bischoff, too.

Cassie: Wow. He could have a fan club.

The Champ Is Here: That he could. What are your plans for the night?

Cassie: Let's see. I have a lasagna in the oven, and A Nightmare on Elm Street on the DVD player.

The Champ Is Here: The first one?

Cassie: The best one.

The Champ Is Here: Amen.

Cassie: Yours?

The Champ Is Here: Probably paint the town red with Cena.

Cassie: No matter what Cena tries to tell you, Jack Daniels will not be the cure to all your stresses. Nice try, John.

"She's too good," Cena commented. Batista had to laugh.

The Champ Is Here: I'll keep that in mind. But if I can survive two years with Ric Flair, I'm pretty sure John Cena's nothing.

Cassie: I wouldn't dismiss him. On some nights, I wonder if he could drink the Nature Boy under the table.

The Champ Is Here: The WWE Champion appreciates your praise, and says he will not shame you tonight.

Cassie: lol. Good to know.

The Champ Is Here: Did you have fun in London?

Cassie: I had a blast. Thanks for coming along with me.

The Champ Is Here: I hope we can do that again.

Cassie: Next time we tour Japan, we should ride the bullet.

The Champ Is Here: What?

Cassie: The bullet train. Remember? Japan has one?

The Champ Is Here: Yeah. Fastest train in the world, right?

Cassie: That would be it.

The Champ Is Here: We should totally do it. Who knows? Maybe we can talk Cena here into it too.

Cassie: Cena? Think he'd go for it?

The Champ Is Here: He's saying hell yeah...

Cassie: Sweet. Anyway, I gotta let you go. I have dinner ready and I gotta get some stuff done. Thanks for coming online. Bye, boys.

The Champ Is Here: Bye, Cass.

Cassie: Buh-bye

Then she was gone.

"I felt so good, and now..." Batista closed the laptop.

"What's up with you two, anyway?" Cena asked.

"I think I got it for her, man," Batista admitted. "I mean, what can I say? She's hot." Cena laughed.

"She's a sweet girl. Anyway, I gotta go for my match. I'll talk to you later, okay?" Batista nodded and Cena left the room, leaving Batista alone with his thoughts.


	8. A Welcome Face to SmackDown

**Chapter Eight: A Welcome Face to SmackDown!**

Dave Batista entered the arena with a wide smile on his face. Only four days before, he had handed Triple H his first-ever Hell In A Cell defeat, and it felt good. With a wide smile on his face, dressed in a gray pinstripe suit, he began to make his way down the hallway, looking for only one woman.

He ran into Torrie Wilson, who was talking to the make-up lady, dressed in a hot pink minidress and matching heels. "Hi, Torrie," Batista said. She turned to face him excitedly. "I wanted to know if you knew where Cassie is."

"Probably in the locker room," Torrie replied. "She was a little upset tonight. I mean, losing Orton, Angle and Carlito in replacement of Christian, Muhammad Hassan and Randy Orton?" Batista nodded; he could understand. "I'm pretty sure you'll make her night, though. I know you two are becoming really good friends," Torrie told him.

"Thanks, Torrie," he replied and continued to make his way down the hallway.

Cassie was packing her things. She had shut off the TV at the main-event. Nothing could make her night. She didn't care who the last draft pick was. Probably Triple H or Ric Flair or something. Then, after some negotiating, Triple H or Naitch or whomever would go back to Raw and everybody would forget the entire thing ever happened.

She slung her duffel bag over her shoulder and turned to see Batista in the doorway. "Dave!" she replied, shocked. "What are you doing here?"

"You mean, you didn't just see what I did to JBL?" he asked.

"No. To be honest, I shut it off when Muhammad came out."

"I'm SmackDown's last draft pick, and you shut the TV off?" he asked incredulously. Her face lit up.

"You're the last one?" she asked. He nodded. A loud, delighted squeal escaped her lips and she ran to him, giving him a tight hug. "Welcome home, Dave," she replied. He laughed.

"Why have you been so upset?" he asked her. "What's there to be upset about?"

"Cena's gone. Kurt's gone..." she shook her head. "They all left me, Dave."

"They didn't want to...well, maybe Angle did. I'd want to if I had Booker T on my ass," Batista commented. "But Cena? Cena loves SmackDown! He made his name here. He promised he'd keep in touch." She nodded. "What are you up to tonight?"

"I thought I'd just head back to the hotel, watch a little TV and pass out. You?"

"I just gave JBL a heart attack. I think I want to go and celebrate," he announced. "You should come and join me."

"I don't know, Dave. I'm really tired. I've been on the go since three this morning," she confessed. "I had a huge interview with a radio station and..."

"Say no more. You just rest up. If you change your mind..." He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and handed her a card. "Here's my hotel number. Room six twenty." She nodded and he left, leaving her to stare down at the number, contemplating reneging on her refusal.

Cassie went back to her hotel room and lay down on her bed, exhausted. She didn't think she would be able to survive a round of partying with "The Animal" on this night. She could barely keep her eyes open on the way back to her hotel room.

She had to admit; she was in love. More than in love. She was head over heels with a six-foot-five World Heavyweight Champion. And she loved every second of it. She loved it every time she saw him in his suit with those beautiful sunglasses, and when she saw him smile, it made her heart melt.

Losing Cena to Raw had been devastating. She remembered as she sat down on the couch and flipped on the TV to see Chris Jericho's face drop when John Cena came out. Like a thief in the night, Eric Bischoff went and got John Cena, their WWE Champion, and brought him to Raw. Talk about a crippling shot to Theodore Long, who was absolutely devastated. With the WWE Champion gone, SmackDown! Was in a serious state of disarray. Cassie could see Theodore trying to come up with a great idea that would hurt Raw just as badly. What better way than to take its World Heavyweight Champion?

And a lovely World Heavyweight Champion at that, Cassie thought to herself, getting comfortable. She couldn't convey how happy she was that she at least had a familiar face on the roster now. And it was Batista, no less!

He was the only thing running through her mind as she fell asleep, her mind taking her to a peaceful paradise for the rest of the night.


	9. SummerSlam

**Chapter Nine: SummerSlam**

Cassie was frustrated. Life on SmackDown was uneventful, at best, with Batista's time being consumed by that loud-mouthed Texan JBL. Between all the beatings and double-teams, Batista was too exhausted to spend any time with her. It made her a tad bit jealous, even though they hadn't officially become a couple yet. They were still in that feeling-out stage, at least that's how it felt to her. She wasn't too sure how Batista saw things, and she wasn't about to ask him. He was under enough stress; two nights ago, at a house show, he had been double teamed by Orlando Jordan and JBL, and they both really brought the fight to Batista.

Batista was in high spirits, however, with SummerSlam being at the MCI Center in his hometown of Washington, D.C. He was incredibly psyched to be back in his hometown after being away for so long, and to know that he was regarded the hometown hero. "Cass! Hello," he replied, his tone incredibly excited and light-hearted. It made her smile. He stared at her attire, a black bikini with a wrap around skirt around her hips, revealing a slight peek at her bikini straps.

"I'm doing the car wash with the girls tonight, remember?" she asked.

"Right," he replied. "I forgot. This stuff with JBL..." He shook his head. "You look great."

"Thanks," she replied. "So do you. Will you stay that way tonight?"

"I don't think I'll be the one sporting the stitches," Batista informed her. She nodded, but her confidence wasn't exactly reaching sky-high lengths. He smiled. "Wow, you worry too much." She shook her head.

"I'm only going to tell you in my defense to watch last year's Judgment Day, or even better, this year's Judgment Day," she replied. He exhaled; it was in reference to Eddie Guerrero and John Cena receiving multiple stitches at the hands of one of JBL's chair shots.

"I promise, he swings, I'll duck, okay?" he told her. She didn't really find it all that funny.

"I'm serious. Last thing I want is you to be out for a few months with an injury and JBL getting run of this show."

"He's not going to. Will you stop worrying so much?" He couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. "I swear, Cassie, you are just too funny. So, what are your plans for tonight?"

"Nothing. Car wash. Hotel. Room service."

"You should come out with Cena and I at the end of the night. Celebrate the two champions retaining their gold at SummerSlam. What do you say?"

"I say yes...if you manage to stay stitch free. How's that?"

"Great. I'll see you after the show." She smiled and he went to his locker room. She wanted to grab out to him and give him that one kiss for good luck, but she knew they'd both be distracted if she did that. With a deep breath, she turned around and made her way towards the parking lot area, to meet Stacy and the other Divas. But she knew that tonight would not be fun until Batista had his match. Her mind would be there until she was sure his Stitch Probation was over.

John Cena decided to join Cassie in her locker room, ecstatic about retaining his WWE Championship against Chris Jericho only minutes before. Batista and JBL were going at it out around the ring area.

"What's up between you two anyway?" Cena asked.

"We're just really good friends," she answered. "After all, I do need one considering I lost Torrie, Carlito, Kurt and you." Cena laughed.

"So what really happened between you two in London?" he asked.

"Nothing. We went out for a walk around the place," she answered. "It was really nice."

"Oh yeah?" he asked. She nodded. "That's cool." He leaned his head back against the couch. "Nice to see I'm not the only one who hates JBL."

"Everyone hates Bradshaw," she replied. He laughed. "He's been lighting up the Jerk-o-meter for over a year now. I wish he'd learn from it."

"Nah," Cena laughed. "Where would we be without it."

She laughed. "You have a point...Do it! Do it!" She was screaming at the TV as Batista set up JBL for the Batista Bomb. Turning towards the steel steps, he slammed JBL down on top of them, causing both Cassie and Cena to cringe with the impact. Batista slumped his exhausted body over JBL for the three count and Cassie collapsed against the couch with relief.

"I guess you're coming to chill with us tonight," he replied. She nodded.

"You know I am," she answered, running a hand over her head. She was excited; he was still champion, he was okay, and she was going to go and hang out with her two friends tonight!

With SummerSlam over, Batista, Cena and Cassie went out, joined by Trish Stratus and Rob Van Dam. They wound up at an old club Batista used to work at, where some of the bouncers there still knew Dave by name. After chilling out with a few warm words to his old colleagues, they went into the club and sat at a table. With SummerSlam over, everybody was psyched.

"The champs are here!" Cena screamed into the club. The crowd at the club cheered as the girls sat down with Rob Van Dam.

"Can I get you a drink?" Batista whispered into Cassie's ear. Cassie felt a small shiver run through her.

"Yeah, I would absolutely love an apple martini," she replied. He nodded and went off to the bar to get a drink for her and himself. Cena was in charge of the others. If anybody could get him to hold still long enough.

"Still Women's Champion, huh?" Cassie said to Trish, trying to make casual conversation. Trish nodded.

"That I am," she answered.

"What number reign is this?"

"Sixth."

"That's pretty good," Cassie replied.

"You're very impressive. I've been watching your stuff on SmackDown," Trish replied as Batista put her drink in front of her.

"Thanks, Dave," she said to him as he took his spot beside her. "Thanks, Trish. That means a lot," she replied. "Coming from one of the greats like yourself." Trish was genuinely flattered to hear the comment.

"I would love to see you on Raw sometime," Trish said.

"Oh, no, she doesn't," Batista said. "You've seen the SmackDown women's division, Trish, we could seriously use all the Divas we got. You should consider coming over to us."

Trish laughed. "I got that brand loyalty thing going on," she replied, winking at Cassie. They laughed.

"What the hell are all y'all doing still sitting here?" Cena roared, coming up behind Trish. "Come on, guys, let's get on the floor!" Taking Trish's hand, he pulled her out of her seat. Rob Van Dam followed to find a young brunette he had been eying since he had gotten there.

Batista turned to Cassie as the song "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas began to play. She hated this song. So did he, but an opportunity to get his hands on Cassie would not be a wasted opportunity. "I guess we should get on the floor then," Batista replied, pretending to hide the disappointment in his voice.

"Yeah. Otherwise Cena will come back and we'll definitely be on the floor," she replied. With a laugh, he got up and extended his hand to her. She took it and he led her onto the dance floor.

"Great job tonight, Dave; I can't believe you Bombed him onto those steps!"

"Thanks, Cassie. Great job in the car wash vignette," he replied back. She laughed.

"Are you kidding? I just stood there and let the other Divas act like tramps," she answered. He placed a hand on her hip and moved closer. She could feel her heart start racing and a blush start from her belly button up to her face. Her cheeks were burning and she was absolutely sure that he could sense it. If he could, though, he wasn't saying anything about it.

"I don't know," he replied. "I thought you looked like the hottest Diva out there."

"Now you're just trying to flatter me," she informed him. He shook his head.

"Me? Never," he replied. She laughed, swinging her hips with the bass as the song "Milkshake" by Kelis played.

"Man, this music is hideous," she replied. He laughed.

"I have to agree with you."

"Not like your music is any better," she informed him.

"Or yours," he told her. They laughed. It was no secret she was probably one of John Cena's biggest musical fans.

"I like other stuff – rock stuff," she answered. "Cena just does good work." He hated this small talk; but he wasn't too sure if he would scare her off with making a move. Especially in public. If he was going to make his move, it would be away from the eyes of John Cena, away from the eyes of Trish Stratus, Rob Van Dam and all those other nosy Divas and "overprotective" Superstars. It would just be the two of them...something that he wanted so very badly at that given moment, where she was close to him, her hips undulating to the beat, a wide smile on her face as he moved with her.

An old-school song began to play, one with a techno beat and Cena started catcalling Batista to start breakdancing. Batista could feel the blush start forming, but he was lucky that he was so tan he was sure nobody would notice. He wanted to pulverize Cena at that given moment. He shot a quick look to Cassie, who was backing away, clapping her hands, chanting "Ba-tis-ta" with the rest of them. He vowed that when he was finished with this night, he was going to drink so much that tomorrow morning it would be nothing but a memory, something to forget...until he saw his colleagues, anyway. He knew that Cena would never let him live it down.

Then Cassie pushed Cena into the floor with Batista and started chanting, "Cena! Cena! Cena!" Eventually she had managed to put both of them in a dance-off, which looked not only awkward, but funny as hell as Cena tried to keep up with Batista's breakdancing, and couldn't. Batista, on the other hand was so enormous that it just looked awkward. When the song was over, he gave Cena a hard slap on the back and thanked him sarcastically for making him do that. Cassie approached him.

"Who knew you could move like that?" she teased, "the Champ's got some skills."

He laughed. "I used to do this back in the day...I wasn't big then, I swear."

"Damn. It probably would have been just as funny to see." He laughed.

"Thanks for throwing knucklehead in there with me," he replied.

"One difference between you two," she replied. "Cena's probably not even half as embarrassed about this as you appear to be."

"Who says I'm embarrassed?" he asked.

"You should have seen the way your eyes bulged out when they started chanting your name," she replied. "I wish I had a camera." The DJ started mixing "Let Me Blow Ya Mind" with the beat of "Try Again" and she grabbed Batista. "One more round," she pleaded. With a smile creeping across his face, he followed her onto the dance floor.


	10. Leading Into Survivor Series

Note: Sorry to be jumping so much. To keep true to the story lines, I am putting in Eddie Guerrero's passing, but it does make me kind of uncomfortable to write anything on it, and it feels weird to write about him knowing he's gone. So I'm sorry, but we're just going to jump right into Survivor Series stuff. Thanks to MissPhilippineSuperstar, and to Hello-mrs-rita for your reviews. They mean a lot to me, and I appreciate it. Thanks.

**Chapter Ten: Leading Into Survivor Series**

Batista was hopping from foot to foot while his best friend Cassie watched. It had been months since he had come to SmackDown and neither of them had made a move yet. The tension from it was starting to build up, and they could both sense it. But both of them were too nervous to make a move.

"You going to be okay?" she asked. He nodded. With Team Raw vs. Team SmackDown coming up, Eric Bischoff had sent Edge and Lita over for a street fight with Batista.

"Yeah. You still coming out to the ring?" he asked. She stared down at her outfit – frayed denim bell-bottoms, a belt slung about her hips, and an altered Animal T-shirt.

"You know I am," she replied. "Who else is going to keep Lita at bay?" He smirked.

"Well, then,"he replied, extending his arm to her. She linked her arm through his. "Let's go."

The match was underway, but Cassie could feel a sense of uneasiness wash over her, and it just wasn't Lita. She knew Eric Bischoff wouldn't be stupid enough to send Edge and Lita alone. Her eyes tore away from Lita and began ripping around the arena for any signs of the Raw guys.

Sure enough from the audience, she could make out the unmistakable tandem of Kane and Big Show, Raw's World Tag Team Champions. As Lita grabbed Cassie and proceeded to try dragging her away from the arena, she screamed out, "Dave! It's a setup! Kane and Big Show are on their way in!"

Batista turned around to see Cassie being dragged away, struggling with Lita, and he began to climb out of the ring when he was blindsided by the tag team champions. Edge got out of the ring, grabbed Cassie's legs and proceeded to carry her out of the arena.

Batista came to in a foul mood, with Lashley, Rey Mysterio and JBL staring over him in concern. Randy Orton was staring over him, too, but with that smug grin he so righteously claims that he was born with. Batista bolted upright. "Cass -"

"Chill, big guy," Randy told him, before drilling the point home, "That was one hell of a beating you took."

Batista opted to ignore Randy. "We have to go to Raw. We have to go to Raw and kill those sons of bitches!"

"Can do, but you need to rest up first. You just got your ass handed to you by two giants," JBL informed him. Batista looked at him.

"But Cassie..."

"Cassie's fine," Lashley informed him. Batista's eyes snapped to Lashley.

"How do you know that? While you guys were doing whatever, Edge and Lita made out of here with her..."

"I know because they didn't," Lashley informed him. "JBL and I intercepted Edge and Lita at the parking lot and they dropped Cassie like a bad habit."

"Yeah," JBL chimed in. "She's pretty shaken up, but she's with Jillian right now. When you're feeling better, you should go see her. Let her know that you're okay."

But that didn't register with Batista. "She's okay?" he reiterated.

"She's fine," Rey told him. "Sorry we didn't get out there sooner, but we were tending to her."

"No, that's great," Batista replied, sitting up. With assistance from Lashley and Rey, he got up and made his way out of the trainer's room.

Cassie was sitting beside Jillian, trying to regain her bearings. After Lita put that choke on her, Edge joined in and they carried her away. Things seemed hopeless as she struggled, screaming for Batista. Before they could reach the Raw limousine, though, the boys of Team SmackDown were there, ready to take them on. So, like the true cowards they were, they dropped her to the concrete, dislocating her elbow when she hit the concrete. It had since been popped in, and she was lucky she wouldn't miss any ring time because of it. But her mind wasn't on her elbow. It wasn't on Jillian Hall, it wasn't even on Survivor Series.

It was on Batista. He had just been double-teamed by two seven foot giants. Was he okay? She didn't know. Jillian could sense this.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Jillian replied, giving Cassie a reassuring pat on the back. "As soon as Rey took you to the locker room, he joined the other guys out there to help Batista."

She looked at Jillian. "You have no idea what it feels like to have two Raw guys try and abduct you while you're watching your friend getting jumped by two monsters." She wanted so bad to say "boyfriend", but that wasn't where they were yet. The last thing she needed to do was slip that out to a gossipy Diva like Jillian Hall, who would tell Torrie Wilson, who would tell Ashley Massaro, who would tell Candice Michelle, and then it would get worse than a tabloid.

There was a knock on the door. "I'll get it," Jillian replied.

Jillian opened the door enough to peek out of the door. She quickly stepped outside. "Batista, hey!" she said, her voice in a hushed whisper.

"Is she okay?"

"Elbow got dislocated when they dropped her, but she's okay," Jillian replied. "She's just really worried about you. I gotta go see JBL, so just go on in." He nodded and she moved past him down the hallway.

Opening the door, he found her with her head in her hands. "My, don't we look pessimistic," Batista said. She looked up and her face lit up.

"Dave! Jesus," she murmured, standing to her feet and rushing to him. "Thank God you're okay." She gave him a hug. "How bad did they hurt you?"

"I'm okay," he insisted. "We're going to Raw next week to straighten those boys out."

"I'm coming with you," she replied. He shook his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he told her.

"I want Lita's head on a silver platter," she said firmly.

"If you come with us, you're not leaving that limousine," he told her firmly. She scoffed. "Cass, I am dead serious. This is going to get volatile, and that's putting it mildly. Kane, Big Show, Shawn, Carlito, Chris, they're out for our blood. Just because we're SmackDown. I'll be damned if anything else is going to happen to you."

"And what about you?" she fired back.

"What about me?" he said. "I'll be fine. I've got Bradshaw and the boys behind me."

"Yeah, cause JBL and Orton are so trustworthy," she replied. He had to admit she had a point, but she was frustrated, he was frustrated, and there was no way that he was going to let her win this.

"We have a brand to uphold. SmackDown pride, Cassie. I will put my life on Bradshaw and Randy Orton right now because I know that they'll do the same for me. You have to promise me that you will stay in the limousine should you decide to come along." She didn't respond. "Cass?"

"Fine." With that, she shot a look of ice at him and stormed out of the locker room, the sound of the door closing being the only sound Batista could hear before he was encased in that brutal silence.


	11. Three Days to Survivor Series

**Chapter Eleven: Three Days to Survivor Series**

Eight people crammed into JBL's white limousine that Monday night. Directly behind the driver, seated against the left side of the window was SmackDown General Manager Theodore Long, and beside him was JBL, Jillian, who was taking notes on JBL's "Great American Stand", and Lashley. Directly across, from the window on the right side was Rey Mysterio, Randy Orton, who was partaking in a drink of champagne with JBL and Theodore Long, Batista, and Cassie. Cassie's head was leaned against the limousine's tinted windows, staring out at the roads. They would be at the arena soon, and this jovial nature would stop.

She hadn't said a word to Batista in a week. Not since their disagreement about what her place in this entire feud was. But he could sense the nervousness radiating off of her like strong beacons of light. He put his hand on hers and gave it a sympathetic squeeze. She looked over at him and absentmindedly nodded at him, as though she sensed his nervousness as much as hers. She continued to stare out the window.

"They've been expecting us," she said absentmindedly to nobody in particular. Batista stared out the window.

"Cassie's right. There's Todd right now," he replied, motioning to Raw correspondent Todd Grisham standing in the middle of the parking lot, obviously nervous to be encountering Team SmackDown, a team obviously so pissed off from last week that he probably figured that they would beat on anyone donning the red. But that wasn't the case. At least, not tonight.

Batista stared at Jillian. "I don't want her leaving this limousine for anything. Got it?" he asked. She nodded. He got out of the limousine, and Cassie rolled her eyes as Randy Orton slammed the door shut behind him.

"Wow."

"What?"

"I have never seen somebody stay so firm with you so mad," Jillian replied. "You okay?"

She exhaled and leaned against the seat. "I'm just sick of this whole SmackDown vs. Raw bullshit," she admitted. "I almost got abducted. Dave got jumped. My best friends are on Raw. My best friends are on SmackDown, and it's like one side is better because we don the color."

"It's brand pride," Jillian replied. "You know all about that. That's why you've refused transfers and trades. Because you love to be here."

"I'm sick of seeing everybody around me getting beaten down because of this, though," Cassie replied, staring out the window. Her heart stopped. Standing in two straight lines, were the opposing teams. Her breath caught. "Jillian..."

"Man, this is going to get ugly," Jillian replied. The first fist was thrown and the entire group was in a torrent of flying fists. Todd and Theodore were standing off, trying to avoid the violence. Chris Masters had locked the Master Lock on Rey, and he was swinging Rey Mysterio around like a sack of potatoes.

But that's not what caught Cassie's eye. With Batista tending to Big Show, Kane came up and they double teamed Batista. "Dave!" she screamed, pounding on the window, a futile warning that was already too late. With a double lift, Batista was slammed down onto the hood of a blue car before Team Raw took off into the solace of the arena. Ignoring Jillian's protests, Cassie swung open the limousine's doors and climbed out of the limo, rushing towards Team SmackDown.

She pushed past the team and saw Batista groaning, moving around slowly on the hood of the car. "Jesus," she murmured. She and Theodore turned towards Todd, "Get an ambulance! Hurry!" they were shouting. Todd, never one to be cold hearted, took off into the arena to garner some help for SmackDown's fallen champion. Cassie moved over to Batista's side and started examining him.

"Jesus Christ," she replied. "I tried to warn you, I really did..."

"You...should be in the limo..." he told her. She exhaled.

"Not now," she snapped. "You're hurt, we're going to get you to the hospital."

"Theodore, you go to the hospital with Animal," JBL told him. "Use the limousine to get back here at the end of the night." He looked at Cassie, who had stalked away to sit on her own outside. She was so frustrated she just wanted to scream out at the open. It had been a wretched month of November, with Survivor Series and attempted abductions, and violent attacks. She was just fed up.

John Cena spotted her outside, and he approached her. He had one-upped Kurt Angle earlier in the night and he was riding high. "Hey. I heard you were here. What are you out here for?"

"Thinking," she replied, without looking back at him. He sat down beside her on a concrete ledge.

"Penny for your thoughts, hon," he replied, handing her a penny. She smiled, and held it up to eye level.

"It's this SmackDown vs. Raw bullshit," she started, her focus remaining on the penny, as though she were venting on the penny and not John Cena. "In the past month, I have watched Dave be beaten down, double-teamed, and I have almost been kidnapped. I've had my elbow dislocated, it still hurts like a son of a bitch, and I was confined to the limousine tonight, and when I got out, never mind that I was trying to keep up on Dave's well-being it was, 'What are you doing outside of the limo?' Like I need permission to leave the limousine. I am tired, I am bitchy, I want Lita's head on a silver platter, I hate Survivor Series, I hate Randy Orton, and I just hate everybody!" Cena stared at her, surprised. "Fuck!" she screamed out. Cena had to chuckle; after all, it was slightly amusing. "What the hell is so funny?" she snapped.

"You," he answered. "You need to let go sometimes. Get a little drunk. Relieve a little stress. I know what you need – you need to talk to Batista."

"Yeah. Cause that's what I really want to do right now," she told him.

"You're just irritated. Talk to him after Survivor Series," he told her. "It'll be Christmas. What could be a better Christmas present than you two finally getting your shit together and getting together. Come on, what do you say?"

"I say, you need to let me think about it. I'm drained right now, Cena. Really I am. I'm not even with Dave, and I'm jealous of every contender that rips his time away from me, and I hate it. I hate feeling like this. I'm not even his girlfriend and I hate hardly seeing him. Could you imagine what it would be like if that were the case?" Cena nodded.

Just then, JBL's white limousine pulled up and Batista trudged out, bandaged up along the arm and ribs. He was ready to walk, unarmed, into the arena, to put a hurt on somebody. "Dave, stop!" she called out. She grabbed a lead pipe from a production truck and ran up to him. "You really aren't thinking of going in there unarmed, are you?" she asked. He took the lead pipe, gave her a smirk of amusement, and took off into the arena. She turned to Cena, who cocked an eyebrow, impressed.

"I must say, you'd make a hell of a manager," he said.

"Thanks, Cena. Means a lot," she replied, sitting down again beside him.

"Just relax," he replied. "Things will work out." She only looked out at the sky, flashing on heavy weather ahead.


	12. SmackDown Leading Into Survivor Series

Quick note: I fcked up. Sorry. I don't know how to change it from within the site without removing it. Three days is inaccurate considering SD moved to Friday, and I was working from Raw. Sorry for the mixup.

**Chapter Twelve: The SmackDown Into Survivor Series**

"You have to be kidding me."

"Sorry," Cassie informed him, "I just came from Teddy's office, and it's been set up."

"Two days until Survivor Series and Randy wants a shot at my title?"

"Sorry," she offered. He smiled. He was still bandaged heavily from the beat down he had taken on Raw Monday night. He was a mess. Randy Orton, like only Randy Orton could, was trying to capitalize on that and make a name for himself leading into Survivor Series.

"You know, I'm really starting to wish they left him on Raw," Batista informed her. She laughed.

"I've been wishing that since he came over here," she answered. They fell silent. "Dave, be careful out there. I'll bet Team Raw is going to show up. JBL invading the arena, you guys all having that parking lot brawl...I can sense that they're coming here tonight."

"They probably are," he answered. "Or they'll just send Big Show and Kane to take care of me again," he laughed. But Cassie wasn't laughing. "Oh, come on, lighten up. Survivor Series is in a few days and we need a little lighthearted humor."

"Tell me how lighthearted you felt when you crashed down on the car," she retorted. He smirked, and nodded. She had a point; he sure wasn't laughing then. He shouldn't be laughing now.

"Thanks for the pipe," he told her. "It came in handy."

"That's good to know," she replied.

"How's Cena?"

"He gets transferred from SmackDown to take on the same guy he could have been taking on when he was here. Actually, did take on when he was here. How do you think he's feeling?" They laughed. Instead of tearing through a new canvas, John Cena was going through the same old recycled matches with Kurt Angle, the man who was his first opponent, and the man who Cena had been unable to defeat until No Way Out in February, which, coincidentally, Cena and Batista teamed up to taunt JBL a little. It didn't help that this time around, though, Angle had Eric Bischoff on his side, and a personal referee by the name of Khoshrow Daivari, more memorably known as Muhammad Hassan's manager. Things were not looking good for Cena Sunday, but Cena remained cautiously optimistic that something would help him retain.

"Bet he feels dumb for getting DQ'd at Unforgiven," Batista told her. She shrugged.

"Doubt it. Cena doesn't feel dumb about much," she answered. "Anyway, what are you talking about? You got a DQ retention at the Great American Bash."

"Yeah, but Bischoff wasn't my boss," he told her. She shrugged. True enough. But Eric Bischoff was afraid of Batista and would probably give Batista the reigns of Raw if Batista appeared threatening enough. Bischoff was the type that had taken the finishers, and knew to steer clear of them...well, for the most part anyway.

"You going to be able to take Randy Orton tonight?" she asked. He stared at her hotly.

"I can't believe you just said that."

"Well, you have gone to hell and back in a span of a few weeks, I think it's okay for me to be slightly concerned."

He smiled. "What type of match is it going to be?"

"Straight up. But I guess if Raw shows up, it'll be lumberjack," she replied. He laughed.

"Yeah. Five guys from Raw getting whaled on by fifty guys from SmackDown," he laughed at the mental image. "I would kill to see our cruiserweights try and attack the Big Show."

Cassie laughed. "That's terrible," she proclaimed.

"Then why are you laughing?"

"I'm not; I'm going," she replied. "I have a match against Melina tonight. So good luck out there, and I'll see you later." He nodded and she walked out.

The match itself was unorganized chaos. But, true to prediction, Raw was there, ready to tear down the SmackDown team leading into Survivor Series. And Cassie was true to her premonition when Batista was double-teamed by Kane and Big Show through the commentators table. What she didn't understand was that with the entire SmackDown roster out there combating the men of Raw, why weren't any of them helping Batista as he got his ass handed to him?

The show went off the air and eventually Raw was driven out of there, prompting Cassie to peek out from the black curtain at the SmackDown Superstars that were crowded around the commentators table. She turned to careen into Jillian Hall.

"How's the damage?" Jillian inquired.

"Brutal," she replied. "It'll be a miracle if Dave isn't the first one pegged off on Sunday."

Jillian sucked in a breath. "It still looks good for us, doesn't it?"

"Care to take a look at Dave?" she asked. Jillian peered out as JBL and Lashley helped Batista to his feet. Jillian came back out.

"Yeah, that's not good," she replied.

"Big Show, Kane, Chris Masters, Shawn Michaels and Carlito," Cassie murmured, foreseeing the match Sunday night.

"JBL, Lashley, Batista, Randy Orton and Rey Mysterio."

"Only one brand's going to win," Cassie prophesied, "but in the end, we're all losers."


	13. Survivor Series

**Chapter Thirteen: Survivor Series**

"I can't believe him."

"It's Randy Orton, what do you expect?"

"Yeah, but to sit there and run his mouth about being the leader of the team?" Cassie said, shaking her head. "Christ, we need a little team unity here. Well, you guys need it anyway. You guys actually have to go out there and work together. Who knew JBL would be so easy to get along with here, huh?"

"No kidding," Batista replied, running a hand over his head. "Lashley's a cool guy, you know."

"Yeah, I've talked to him a couple times," she told him. "I see a lot of potential with him. He's a big guy."

"Yeah. I'm glad to have him on our side," he replied. "Masters, Show, and Kane as it is draws harsh weight as it is. I don't think there's ever been a team so big."

"Team Lesnar two years ago. Brock was the smallest guy on the team. Remember?"

"No. What I do remember was being the decision maker in the Team Bischoff match."

"That you were," she replied. She wasn't yet with the company, but everybody knew the outcome of the Team Bischoff match, where Batista powerbombed Shawn Michaels so Randy Orton could pin him, costing Steve Austin his job as the co-General Manager of Raw.

"You going to be okay?"

"Yeah," she replied. "I'm just going to relax, watch Trish whoop Melina, watch Cena retain the title, and then I'm going to watch Team SmackDown win Survivor Series." She had more she wanted to talk about, but it was better to not drag Batista into a heated discussion prior to the match. She didn't think it was a good idea that he was still wearing his bandages. With the bandages off, it could be implied that he had taken the time in the last two days to heal up. But by keeping the bandages on, he was playing it off as though he was still very much injured – and he was, but much to her chagrin, by him being so insistent to keep on the bandage, it gave him a bull's eye target for everybody to focus on. If he didn't get ganged on, five on one, it would be a miracle. And she could imagine how good to the morale it would be if the World Heavyweight Champion was taken out of the contest early. The momentum would easily go to Team Raw, and the team's and fan's morale would sink. It wasn't shaping up to be pretty.

"Then I won't keep you," Batista informed her. She smiled half-heartedly.

"Good luck. I'll see you after the match," she replied. "Tell the guys that I said good luck."

"Sure thing," he replied. With a small hesitation, she walked out.

There was a knock on her door midway through the match. Lashley had already been eliminated, followed by Batista. So she had a fairly good idea as to who was behind door number one. There had already been time to clean up and shower. "Come on in, Dave," she called out.

The door swung open and Batista walked in. "I tried," he said in his defense.

"It was the bandage," she told him. "You walked out with a bull's – eye," she replied. He nodded and sat down beside her.

"I figured Rey would have gone first," Batista replied. "When taking on the team of Chris Masters and Kane, Big Show, Michaels."

"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, but it's the size of the fight in the dog," she replied.

"True enough," he answered. They fell silent and watched as the teams dwindled down. Eventually, as usual, it was down to Shawn Michaels and three men.

"What are your plans tonight?" he asked her.

"Not too much. I'm probably going to head back to the hotel room, hang out a little with Jillian, and pass out."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Why?"

"Well, how about you and I go out for a night on the town?" he asked.

"I don't know," she answered. "You should probably get some rest, too. It's been a long month for you. What, with this SmackDown vs. Raw stuff, all the attacks."

Of course, little did Cassie know that within the next two weeks, things were going to get worse for Batista.


	14. New Champions

**Chapter Fourteen: New Champions**

Cassie was overseas. She had a promotional tour in South Korea with Shane McMahon, Trish Stratus, Shawn Michaels and Carlito. It was her first time to Korea and without a shadow of a doubt, she was psyched to be there, especially being the only one there from SmackDown!

It was December sixteenth, and it had been a hell of a few weeks for Batista. It was a cold, blustery, snowy night, and SmackDown was rolling through with crazy fans and excited Superstars. Two weeks ago after coming to the rescue of Rey Mysterio, they had started tag teaming, and on this night in particular, they had garnered a shot against WWE Tag Team Champions MNM and they were both psyched.

"Cassie would be psyched to come back and learn you earned yourself another title," Rey told him. He nodded.

"I think she would, too. I can't wait till she comes back," Batista confessed.

"You finally going to make your move?" Rey asked.

"I think it's about time," he answered. Rey nodded.

"You think?" he asked and Batista laughed. "Anyway, I'll meet you at the ramp for the match."

"You know it, Rey-Rey," he replied. They slapped hands into a hug and they went their separate ways, each walking into their locker rooms. It was a big night, and they were riled up.

Melina had a self-satisfied smirk on her face as she strutted down the hallway, hand on her hip, hips swinging seductively. She was in her usual attire; a gleaming red halter top, a deep maroon miniskirt and knee-high boots, her hair waved around her face. She had a plan tonight, and it was a plan that was going to ensure the Tag Team championships stayed around the waists of MNM.

With her strut, she walked towards the locker room of the World Heavyweight Champion, stopping in front of the blue door that bore his symbol on the front door. With a timid knock, she walked into the locker room, shutting the door softly behind her.

Cassie shuddered. "What's wrong, Cass?" Trish asked. They were all seated around a table, eating Korean food.

"I don't know," Cassie replied. "I have the strangest feeling that things are going to be pretty heavy when I get back to SmackDown next week."

"Regarding Batista?" Trish asked.

"I don't know," Cassie replied. "I just got a bad feeling."

"So, what's up with you and Batista anyway?" Shane asked. The rumors weren't lost on him. For as sporadically as anybody saw him around the back, he was always on the up and up with his stuff backstage.

"We're good friends," Cassie replied.

"Anything more?" Trish inquired.

"Anything less?" Shawn asked.

"Speaking of which, great stuff at Survivor Series," Cassie replied, laughing, pointing her comments at HBK. "How is it that you always manage to get stuck with three and yourself?"

"I'm just good." They all laughed, and the subject of Cassie Wallace and Dave Batista was completely forgotten.

Meanwhile, halfway around the world on SmackDown, Rey Mysterio and Batista won the WWE Championship from MNM, with a withdrawn and scheming Melina at ringside. Things weren't going to be pretty next week. If it killed her, then she would be sure that the championships got back around the waist of MNM.

And she knew exactly how she was going to do it.

"Cassie! Rey and I won the tag titles tonight!"

His ecstatic voice over her cell phone made her wake up. She was almost twenty-four hours ahead, and the time zone change had made her exhausted. "Dave, that's wonderful, congratulations."

"I can't believe it. Rey and I – we're just so psyched."

"You should go paint the town red with Rey," she replied. "He'd probably really enjoy the company." They understood the reason behind it.

"Yeah. It's too bad you weren't with us. Melina kept trying to interfere, and she just couldn't do it." They laughed.

"Wouldn't be the first time they failed at something," she replied and they laughed.

"How's Korea?"

"Terrific. Trish and the crew just went out."

"Why didn't you go with them?" he asked.

"Too tired. I gotta catch a flight tomorrow morning. Hangovers and jet lag is something I don't want to experience together. How many times have you had to?"

"Me? Never."

"You're lying. You don't travel with Ric Flair and not experience the two together."

"Well, I'm telling you the truth."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Your lips are sealed. One of these days you really should write a book about being in Evolution." He chuckled.

"Have a nice sleep," he told her.

"Thanks. Have fun tonight. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He laughed.

"I'll be sure to remember that," he answered.

"Okay. Have a good night, Dave."

"Cassie?"

"Yeah, Dave?"

"I've been meaning to tell you this for a while, and...well, it's been tough. But I know you've sensed it too. I just wanted to say...Cassie, I love you."

The words froze her. "W-what?" she said. "Sorry, bad connection," she lied. "Did you say what I think you said, Dave?"

"Yeah, I did," he proclaimed emphatically. "It's been driving me insane that I haven't gotten to see you since Survivor Series. With you going to Korea, Mexico, and all these places to do these promotional things. I just wanted you to know that. I'll see you next week."

"Dave?"

"Yeah, Cass?"

She took a deep breath. "I love you, too." There was silence on the phone as he chuckled.

"I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Okay, Dave. Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams." Her line went quiet. She hung the phone up on the receiver and lay back in bed. He had just said the three words she never thought she'd hear. And now that he had said them, even though she felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders, she was a little bit more than surprised. She just rolled onto her side and decided to sleep it off. Things could be worked out in the morning.


	15. The Accusation

Please note: This is rated T, but this chapter has a very mature storyline. Keeping to the spirit of what happened on SmackDown during this period in time. Be forewarned cause I don't want to offend anyone.

**Chapter Fifteen: The Accusation**

There was a podium out in the ring, and a middle-aged man stood out in the ring with a briefcase in hand. After a small introduction, MNM's music played, and Melina sauntered out, looking devastated, holding a slip of paper in her hand, her eyes casted downward at the floor. The fans, the commentators, the staff, were all curious as to why there were photographers around the ring, and why Melina had talked to Theodore Long about putting this time aside for her without MNM.

Batista couldn't find Cassie, and he gave up. He had a match to prepare for, and she knew where he was. He turned on the TV and saw Melina coming out to the ring. They had a rematch on this night, the night before New Year's Eve, and things were just going to get brutal. Of course, just by Melina standing at the podium, he couldn't tell that. She had yet to speak.

Cassie stood next to Jillian, Kristal Marshall, and Stacy Keibler, intrigued by Melina's presence in the ring without her henchmen. But as they watched on, Cassie could feel the blood drain from her face down to the soles of her feet.

She saw the footage of Batista making out with Melina. She felt physically nauseous. The girls, the last eight months of their flirting not being lost on them, but none of them aware of the exchange that had happened between Cassie and Batista when she went to Korea, and they all shot sympathetic glances at Cassie.

"What started out as an innocent flirtation," Melina claimed, "turned into something abhorrent." They listened, shell-shocked when she finally announced that she had been sexually assaulted by the champion. "I told him to stop!" she cried into the microphone. "And he didn't!" The crowd was rabidly booing her, chanting Batista to rattle her cage. And it worked, it seemed. "I will be scarred forever, just remembering that smirk. My body is my temple, and it isn't yours for the taking. And I am here today to announce that I am suing David Batista...suing...for sexual harassment." The last two words she pronounced harshly, the words spitting from her lips, each syllable driving the nails deeper into her heart.

The girls all stared at Cassie as the tears began to well up in her eyes. How could he do this? Wait...if this happened the night they got the titles...he had called her in Korea that night and told her! She was humiliated, disgusted and furious. How could he say something like that to her after he had just had his tongue down Melina's throat?

"Wow."

Jillian had broken the silence. And now the girls were chattering wildly about Melina's bombshell. Cassie just pushed past the Divas and walked back to the Divas locker room, absolutely devastated.

Batista was feeling nervous as he stood in front of the locker room door that led to the Divas room. As much as he hated to do this, Rey had told him to go and talk to Cassie.

He felt like a jerk. He probably was one, he reasoned. He should have told her last week. But what would she have said. Well, she probably would have taken it much better without the love proclamation, as if they were just friends and things weren't complicated.

He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He decided to go in and wait for her. When he opened the door, he could hear the water running. He debated on leaving; after all, he had already stepped into enough trouble with the Divas. But Melina was with MNM, Christy was with Stacy getting their makeup done for a photo shoot. Jillian was with JBL, and Kristal was conducting interviews. Which meant that he knew Cassie was the only one left in the Divas room.

Eventually, the water shut off, and he knew that it was judgment day. He felt more nervous to face her than he did facing Triple H at WrestleMania. He knew that she knew now. And how she was going to react was one of life's greatest mysteries.

Cassie walked out, a terry cloth pink towel draped around her little frame. Any other day, Batista would have been all for that, but there were bigger tasks at hand at the moment. She just walked past Batista without even acknowledging him, and that hurt him the most. He at least expected her to freak out somewhat.

"That's it?" his voice rang out into the silence. "No, 'Dave!' No 'How could you?'"

"I'd scream and cause a scene, but I figured you've stepped into enough trouble with the Divas on this brand," she replied, her voice dripping with venom. Batista flinched slightly from her cold tone, but he got up and went towards her. She turned around and she held a hand up, the other holding her clothing for the night.

"You don't want to come near me right now," she told him hotly. "I am going to get ready to go out with the girls. I'd wish you good luck, but I'm sure Melina and her attorney will be there to cheer you on." With that, she turned on her heels and walked into the shower area to get dressed.

Defeated, Batista left.

Cassie sat at the club, dressed in a hot pink minidress and matching boots. She had styled her hair into curls, and she sat at the glass roundtable, looking absolutely miserable. Only Jillian had stayed behind while Christy and Stacy went out onto the dance floor.

"You look absolutely heartbroken, honey," Jillian cooed, taking a sip of her strawberry daiquiris. "Anything I can help you with?"

"You kidding?" she scoffed into her Bacardi and Coke. "I can't even help myself here."

"What's bugging you the most?"

"Let's see...hmmm...it could be the night he told me he loved me, when I was in Korea. About an hour or two before he had done God knows what with Melina."

"You think what she said is true?" Jillian asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But he was making out with her at least. How can he say those words to me, and not even mean them?"

"How do you know?"

"Because he made out with her like an hour before, Jillian!" she exclaimed. She took a sip of her drink. "How can I trust that?"

"Why don't you ask him what went down?"

"And what do you think he's going to say about it, Jillian? Think he's going to fess up?"

"Wow, are you ever optimistic," Jillian informed her. "Look, just go and talk to him."

"I don't think I want to right now," she told her. "I just want to think." She paid for her drink and walked out of the club. Suddenly, hanging out with the Divas didn't seem like it was needed all that much anymore.

Batista sat in his locker room and just stared at the floor. He felt like a total failure. Melina had screwed things up permanently between him and Cassie. He just wanted to Batista Bomb Melina every time he laid eyes on her tonight. If he was so threatening, why the hell was she even at ringside? Like Johnny Nitro or Joey Mercury would be able to help her out. He could cut through those guys like nothing.

He had let Rey down. He got hit with the World's Strongest Slam, and MNM got their titles back. Exactly what Melina wanted. She got everything out of the deal, and Batista is left with the stigmata of her accusations, and knowing he had let Rey down.

Much more than that, though, he had hurt Cassie. He could see the heartbreak in her eyes when she saw him. He could sense the anger resonating from her body.

But that's why he told her how he felt. Because he knew that there was a good chance what happened with Melina would come out. Things weren't going to look good when Melina was putting her shirt back on...because that's what happened.

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Cassie's cell phone number.

She was driving along the road when Jay-Z's "Dirt Off Your Shoulder" started to play. She didn't even need to look. With her cell phone's personalized ringtones, she knew it was Dave. She didn't want to talk to him. Right now, as it stood, she didn't even want to see him ever again. But she knew Dave. He was going to leave a voicemail message. And when that happened, and she felt ready tonight, maybe she would give it a listen.

"Please don't delete this, Cassie. Just hear me out. I know you're upset, and I know I'm an idiot, and I'm sorry. Melina's accusations are baseless, Cassie, you have to believe me.

"You see, she came to me before the match and tried to make me an offer I couldn't refuse. She was trying to get me to back out on the match, and...well, it happened. I can't go back on it, but it certainly is not what she is claiming happened.

"The only reason she is pulling what she's pulling is because even after what happened between her and I, I still wouldn't back out of the match. She got herself into a spot that didn't work out for her. It's not my fault.

"Man, I'm coming off like a real jerk here. Cassie, I'm sorry you're upset. Everything I told you when you were in Korea was not a lie. I've been trying my damnedest for eight months to tell you, and...you know what? I think it would be better we just talk face to face. If you can stand the sight of me, please come and talk to me. I don't want to lose you. Bye, Cass."

She hung up the phone and cried herself to sleep.


	16. The Cage Match

**Chapter Sixteen: The Cage Match**

Cassie was dressed in black bell-bottoms and a black "Chain Gang" T-shirt. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, and her eyes were swollen and red. In her left hand, she held a pipe, and she was pacing a trench in the parking lot, awaiting the arrival of Melina and her boys.

She knew she was being drastic; maybe even melodramatic. But she didn't care. Batista had left a message on her answering machine saying he wanted to meet her at his locker room at six. It was five. She had an hour to rearrange Melina's face, clean up and go talk to Batista. Maybe not even talk. She was still angry. Maybe she would bring the pipe along...rearrange Batista's face too. She laughed; like she'd even get a swing off.

She felt the pipe being tugged out of her hands and she wheeled around to see Jillian. "You are not going to do what I think you're going to do with this," Jillian informed her. Cassie seethed.

"Jillian!"

"You go march yourself to Batista's locker room, and talk to him. I can't believe Melina would get to you like this."

"Well, it's not everyday that a Diva accuses our World Champion of..."

"Okay. I see your point," Jillian conceded, but still refused to hand back the pipe. "But if you want Melina so bad, you gotta talk to Theodore about making it an official match. You want the pipe so bad, make it a hardcore match. But do not wait here in the parking lot with thoughts of destruction in your head. You're better than that." Cassie smiled.

"Maybe I don't want to be," she answered. "Maybe I just want to wrap my fingers around Melina's neck and squeeze for dear life." Jillian laughed.

"You're acting like she's the only one at fault."

"No, I'll get to Dave soon enough," she replied. "I have to meet him at six."

"Take mercy on his stupid soul," Jillian replied.

"Why should I?" she blasted back. "He sure didn't take any on mine."

"To be fair, it's not like you two are together."

"You don't get it, Jillian," Cassie said. "How can he call me up and tell me that he loves me and that he's wanted to tell me this for eight months, but he conveniently fails to mention that he and Melina did their thing in his locker room before his match. And it's supposed to make me feel better that he used her? That her doing this was for him to back out and he took the bait but didn't back out? Jesus, Jillian, how the fuck am I supposed to feel?" Jillian was so taken aback by Cassie's flaring temper that she didn't dare to speak. "For the last week I have cried and I have slept and I have listened to phone message after phone message telling me how sorry he is for hurting me. How do you think I feel to hear this and know what he's done, and to know that Melina's making an issue out of it?" Jillian was silent. She really didn't know what to say.

Batista was pacing back and forth in his locker room. It was two minutes to six o'clock. His match was in fifteen minutes. Was she going to show up?

There was a slight creak as the door opened and Cassie strolled in. "You came," he said. He went towards her, but she held her hand out, signaling for him to stand back. She was in a bad enough mood already since Jillian had confiscated her weapon. "Well, um, thanks for at least coming here."

"I wasn't going to," she told him firmly. "I was going to wait out in the parking lot for Melina to arrive, and I was going to take a lead pipe, and I was going to bash her in. Then, if MNM decided they wanted in on the action, I was going to give them a taste. Then I thought I'd come here and give you a little recap of what happened out there.

"You see, all week, I've had to hear, 'What's the big deal, Cass? It's not like you two were a pair.' Well let me tell you something, Dave..." She stopped and stared at the floor, trying to will the words to form in a fluent sentence. "You picked a great time to utter those three little words. I've been dreaming of hearing you say them to me for eight months. Eight months, I've been wanting to make a move, and I've been hanging out with you, and you choose to tell me an hour and a half after you...you..." she couldn't even bring herself to say the words. "In your locker room? That was sure something you conveniently forgot to mention to me when you called me in Korea.

"And now _you're _the one that sits here wounded?" she asked, the tears coming to her eyes. She was surprised that he was just standing there, taking this verbal onslaught. "You broke my heart, you son of a bitch, and you're the one who wants to talk to me, to make it right? Jesus, this is pointless." She turned on her heels and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

He took a deep breath. He wanted to follow after her. But he had committed the biggest faux pas ever. He and Melina had gotten together, and then he covered it up to look good for Cassie. If she ever talked to him again, he would be surprised.

He wanted to follow. But his match...was next.

Mark Henry struck again, but Cassie could tell from the monitor that this time around it was bad. Not bad, but colossally bad. She couldn't help but be concerned for his well-being when he wasn't getting up fast enough. He just lay on the canvas, yelling out in pain as Mark Henry assaulted him with the cage door. Things weren't looking good for the champion, but Cassie sure wasn't tasting sweet revenge.

He needed to see the doctor. Things didn't look very good. So here is the problem: the World Heavyweight Champion is hurt. And if the injury requires time off for a span longer than five weeks, then it means that he has to forfeit the championship. He took a deep breath.

It was his triceps again. Before the trainer even examined him, he knew it. Having done this on two previous occasions, he knew that this was what had happened. He groaned; his night was not getting any better. Melina was suing him because her plan failed, Cassie hated him, and now there was a good chance that he was no longer going to be World Heavyweight Champion.

Things weren't looking up all that much.

Cassie was concerned, but she was fighting the urge to go see him. She was still mad, and what would it say about her if she shoved it aside and went and saw him?

She was devastated, and she was crushed. She wasn't sure that she could let this slide. It hurt. Even worse, she had told him that she loved him, too, and she did. She does.

But she couldn't bring herself to go out there and see him. She needed to make a point. She was just so confused. She loved him, but at this moment, she hated him just as much.


	17. A Familiar Face

**Chapter Seventeen: A Familiar Face**

The fans were booing, screaming, crying, clawing. Each one more devastated than the next. A week ago, when Mark Henry roughed up Batista in the cage, Batista had yet again torn his triceps, and it was with a heavy heart that he had to forfeit the World Heavyweight Championship to General Manager Theodore Long. Incredibly upset to be losing one of his headliners, Theodore instated a twenty man battle royal for the title. Batista only got out of the ring and proceeded to walk away up the ramp, heartbroken that his life-long dream had just been robbed from him after an astounding two hundred and eighty days with that title.

Rey Mysterio was the first man to meet him backstage with a sympathetic smile. It made Batista feel worse. Rey had gone through a lot in the last few months, and here he was feeling bad for Batista. "Keep your head up," Rey assured him. "You'll be back in no time."

"Thanks, man," he replied.

"You talked to Cassie yet?"

"She hates me," he answered. "There's no point. You should have seen her last week, Rey. She...well, quite frankly, she tore me a new one." He laughed at the recollection.

"She'll forgive you soon enough," Rey replied. "These things just take time. Now, you go and get yourself fixed up so you can be back here in no time." They gave each other a hug and Batista separated from Rey.

Walking further down the hallway, he saw Bobby Lashley. He slapped hands with Batista. "Hey, man," he replied. "That sucks. I was really looking forward to working with you, too."

"Thanks," Batista replied. "Who knows? Maybe we'll get a bigger chance when I get back." Lashley nodded. They hugged and Batista continued to walk away.

Cassie was in the Divas locker room, dressed in pink velour track pants and a pink tank top. She was on a bench, clutching a pillow to her chest, knees bent on the bench. She was watching the monitor of matches when Kristal Marshall walked in, dressed in a revealing black shirt with red vinyl pants. "Cassie, Batista's leaving the arena."

"Why do I care?" she murmured.

"Come on, Cassie. It's been a week, you've made your point."

"For you to inform me that Batista's leaving tells me I haven't."

"Cassie, he's devastated enough, just go say goodbye to him. Let him know that there's at least going to be a chance at a friendship rekindling at least when he comes back. Give him something to look forward to. He's already lost the title. Melina's still suing. Just...go talk to him."

Throwing down her pillow, realizing the best way to make Kristal shut up is to follow her orders, she pushed past her and out of the locker room.

"Hey – what the hell, man?"

Batista closed the trunk and turned to see Cassie staring up at him defiantly. "Cass?"

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she raged.

"I'm leaving?" he asked, confused.

"You are seriously going to get into that car and drive away without saying goodbye?" she snapped. He was now officially confused; did she hate him? Did she forgive him? What was going on?

"I thought you didn't..."

"Dave, we're friends. Whether or not I'm mad at you right now, I'd at least appreciate the courtesy of getting a goodbye."

"But I thought..." he began, but she put a finger to his lips.

"Whatever problems are happening with that bitch Melina, we can work through them together," she replied. "I got a match with her next month in Australia. I'll try and get a stipulation put on the line." He stared at her. In her own way, she had forgiven him.

"I'm sorry for everything," he apologized, "if I could redo it I would..."

"I know," she replied. "But it happened, so let's not dwell on it, Dave. You need to get your arm checked out, rehab it, and when you come back, we'll finish dealing with MNM and Mark Henry."

He touched her face, and she was receptive to it. She looked up as his face loomed down and they kissed softly. He pulled back and she looked up at him, breathing slightly labored, eyes slightly wide, mouth still slightly parted. To say she looked beautiful to him at that moment was a lie. He slid his good arm around her waist and gave her another kiss.

She finally pulled away. "Go take care of yourself," she breathed, slightly surprised by what was happening. "I'll see you when you get back."

"Keep in touch?" he asked. She nodded. She watched, confused, as he climbed into the car and drove away into the night.

She returned to the locker room and refused to tell anybody about what had happened in the parking lot. But the Divas could sense a change in her from the twenty minutes before and after. She heard the trademark all-American music play and her jaw dropped.

"What the hell is Angle doing here?" Kristal demanded.

"He's Raw!" Christy stated firmly.

"I guess he's not anymore," Cassie replied. "Good to see a familiar face on SmackDown," she replied. "Especially since Teddy just lost his main-eventer and champion." The Divas looked at her.

"How did the meeting go?"

"I said bye, he left," she replied nonchalantly. It was none of their business as far as she was concerned. She wanted him so bad; all she could remember was his lips on hers. She could still feel it. She was confused; what did this mean for the two of them.

"Cass, Earth to Cassie!"

"What?"

"Why are you so spacey all of a sudden?" Stacy asked. Cassie shrugged.

"Lot on my mind."

"Or you mean, Dave on your mind?" Christy teased.

"I mean my first tour to Australia," she replied hotly. Christy was so persistent, though.

"To face Melina, who slept with Batista..." The Divas looked at her as though she had said something taboo, and Cassie glared hotly at Christy.

"And if you don't watch it, next week, I'll be meeting somebody in the ring, a certain redhead who doesn't know how to shut up..." It was still a sensitive subject.

"Sorry," Christy apologized, "I didn't realize it was still such a sensitive subject."

"It only happened a couple weeks ago," Stacy informed her.

"Can we quit talking about this?" Cassie demanded hotly. The Divas fell silent, and Cassie just focused on watching Kurt Angle win the championship for his fifth time. When the monitor faded to black, symbolizing the end of the show, Cassie gathered her things together and left the arena. She was happy to leave; she had a lot to think about.


	18. A Night In Australia

**Chapter Eighteen: The Night In Australia**

Cassie was in the process of getting ready for her match against Melina, and she was incredibly psyched that after three weeks, she would finally get her hands on that conniving wench. She had decided to dress up in a pair of black bell-bottom pants, and a glittering yellow butterfly shirt with a loop belt hanging over her hips. She was slightly weirded out by the backless concept of her shirt, but she decided to go along with it. And at the end of the night, after she beat the hell out of Melina, she and Jillian were going to go out for a night on the town. Christy had since been released; Stacy was off doing "Dancing With the Stars".

Cassie had managed to get Melina to agree to drop all this Batista stuff if she lost the match. So Cassie knew that this was do or die time. She knew that Melina had ability behind her. Most managers do. So, she slid on her black boots and laced them, and turned on her Ipod with her music. The song "Wait" by Earshot always got her hyped. Not to mention "Falling Apart" by Trust Company.

With a splash of mascara across the lashes and a dash of gloss across the lips, Cassie shut out the locker room lights and went out towards the main stage.

Cassie's theme, "Broken" by 12 Stones, blared through the arena, the Australian crowd giving her a warm and raucous ovation. Smiling, high-fiving, and waving to the international fans, she began to walk down the ramp towards the ring area, climbing up the steps and getting into the ring. She pulled on the ropes, stretched, and waited for her theme to fade, and the other theme, Melina's theme, to begin. She had plans on kicking her ass through the arena.

MNM's theme played throughout the arena, and Melina walked out, dressed in black slashed-up pants and a pink and purple flowing shirt. She strutted down the ramp, refusing to shake hands or even acknowledge the fans, and she didn't even bother to grace them with her split into the ring moves. She went to climb into the ring, but Cassie grabbed her by the hair and flung her into the ring violently. While Melina's body was arched up in pain, Cassie proceeded to take the fight to her. She knew that there was a lot riding on this, and she wasn't going to let him down.

Melina managed to get the advantage on Cassie for a little bit, but Cassie managed to take down Melina with a double-leg take down while Melina was jaw-jacking with the referee. Landing mounted punch after mounted punch on Melina felt good. She found herself screaming at Melina, and she grabbed a fistful of her hair and slammed her into the canvas repeatedly, savoring each shriek that came from Melina as her head hit the canvas.

Melina managed to reverse it and tried to pin, but only got two. Cassie was lucky she managed to kick out; Melina had her pants. While Melina argued with the referee, Cassie hit her with a school boy pin for a three count. The bell rang; her theme blared and she rolled out of the ring, leaving Melina screaming in anger.

She had done it. She had just defeated Melina.

Jillian was staring at her reflection in the mirror. A turquoise miniskirt and a black, too-tight fitting blouse. Her bleached blonde hair was flowing down around her face and she was working on her makeup when Cassie entered, exhausted. "How'd it go?" Jillian inquired.

"I kicked her ass," she replied, grabbing stuff for her shower. "I gotta call Dave and let him know that she's going to let it go."

"That's great. Good thing you got it put in writing."

"Well, he has a point. She used herself and he showed her that she can't rely on her using her body to get MNM out of anything." It still bothered her that he had taken the bait, though. But she would do anything for him. She knew that probably wasn't good.

"So, have you spoken to the big guy lately?" Jillian asked, sitting down to strap on her shoes.

"Not recently," Cassie replied from the shower. Her voice echoed. "But I talked to him about three weeks ago. The surgery was a success. But they had to take a graft from his hamstring and stick it in his arm because of all the times he's torn it."

"What's this, the fourth?"

"Third."

The water began to run, cutting off their conversation. Cassie just wanted to leave and experience Australia just like John Cena had when he came down to film "The Marine". He had told her over and over to take advantage when she was down there, that it was like his second home.

When she emerged from the shower, she changed into a pink halter dress and made herself up to look like she was stuck in the sixties. "You go ahead. I'll meet you at the parking lot," she replied. Jillian nodded and left and Cassie pulled out her cell phone.

"Yeah, Dave? It's Cass...I won the match, you have one less thing to worry about...No problem. How's the arm? Yeah, I can imagine. Rehab? Amen. Just try not to worry. SmackDown misses you and we can't wait to see you back. Okay, Dave. What? Oh, yeah, right. Fine. Just going out with Jillian. Yeah. Take it easy. Okay, Dave. Bye."

She hung up. He had told her he loved her. She was really hesitant to tell him that now. He knew it, so she supposed that he had no real choice but to accept it. Things had gotten slightly better, but she still felt slightly wounded; after all, something like that is a harsh blow to the ego. Placing her phone in her little pink clutch, she gathered her duffel bag and shut out the lights, leaving for the club scene with Jillian.


	19. Biggest Party of the Summer

**Chapter Nineteen: The Biggest Party of the Summer**

"Wow," Torrie Wilson replied as she, Cassie, Trish Stratus and Maria Kanellis made their way to the house that WWE had rented out for the SummerSlam magazine and commercial shoot. They were standing in the entrance way of the backyard.

"Geronimo!"

The Divas looked to see John Cena doing a flying bellyflop into the pool. He landed with a huge splash, drenching all five members of the Spirit Squad who had inhabited the shallow end of the pool. JBL – the only man to wear a suit at the party – was laid out under an umbrella, a barrage of beer cans surrounding him as he snoozed languidly in the hot May heat.

Trish Stratus was off to the corner, getting her hair worked on as Kane looked on. Shelton Benjamin and Carlito were talking to each other, no doubt about all the matches they had been doing together lately.

"Yo, Maria! Up here! Come here!"

Maria looked up to see Candice Michelle at the top floor of the house, dressed in an orange vinyl bikini. Maria whipped off her purple robe, revealing a purple bikini and she went into the house and up the stairs to join Candice. Trish pulled off her robe to reveal a red bikini and took off to go chat with Rey Mysterio.

"So, think Batista's here yet?" Torrie asked. Cassie looked at her in surprise.

"Dave's supposed to be here?"

"Yeah. We're all doing this and then we've got Kane's movie premiere. You going?"

"Yeah. I have to leave here at four to start getting ready," she replied. Torrie nodded, taking off her robe and handing it to a prop guy. She had chosen a blue bikini. "I have to admit, I'm really excited for Kane."

"I can't wait to see this movie," Torrie admitted. "I love horror movies."

"So do I," Cassie admitted, reluctantly removing her black robe to reveal a baby pink tankini. She was not about to go in a skimpy two piece with Carlito there. With Randy Orton on suspension, she knew that Carlito was up to running amok to make up for it.

The day progressed and nobody saw hide nor hair of Batista. Big Show had taken over the grill and D-Generation X was playing polo with each other, dressed up like suburban golf players. It was kind of funny. The day was turning out to be a total blast.

"How on earth do you cook a burger this good, Show?" Cassie inquired. "You have to tell me."

"I'd tell you," Show informed her, "but then I'd have to kill you." They laughed, but the sound of a brutal scuffle interrupted them and she stopped to exchange bewildered glances at each other.

"What the hell?"

"I don't know, Cass, let's go take a look." She followed the giant across the backyard to find four huge men pulling Batista and King Booker away from each other. Big Show gave her a nudge. "You should take him upstairs and clean him up." She nodded, and grabbed Batista's wrist.

"Come on, big guy," she replied nonchalantly, pulling him out of the view of King Booker, who was absolutely infuriated.

Batista sat down on the toilet lid and she crouched down in front of him, a bottle of peroxide in one hand and cotton balls in the other. "What the hell happened?" she inquired.

"Personal."

"Oh." She knew better than to ask questions after that. If it was personal, well...then it was personal. "You going to Kane's premiere tonight?"

"I don't know. Think I should?"

"You worked a lot with him on Raw. I think he would really appreciate it if you were there for his big night." She put the cotton ball with the alcohol on it to the broken skin scratch on his forehead; he winced. "Don't be such a baby."

"Baby?" he asked incredulously. She smiled at him. He leaned in and gave her a kiss. "Just one for the road. I am out on injured reserve, you know."

"Yeah, but you'll be back eventually. And from the looks of it, you're looking to open up shop on Booker T's ass." They laughed, and she cleaned the wound across his chin. "Well, it's better you get this out of your system. How has your afternoon here been?"

"I've been looking for you."

"I'm amazed Orton isn't here," she replied, eager to change the subject slightly. "Even if he is on suspension, he'd be back in time for this mag to hit newsstands."

"Orton's been left of ad campaigns before," Batista replied. "This one's just no different." She nodded.

"Come on. Let's get you downstairs and back to the party," she replied. She went to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist. She stopped and turned to him, a smirk crossing her face. "Come on. Don't make me drag your ass up." He laughed and got up, letting her lead him down the steps.

Dressed in a black and red glittering strapless dress, Cassie stepped onto the red carpet at the premiere of Kane's movie. Her hair was in ringlets; her makeups dark and dramatic. She looked like the gothic girl-next-door. She waved to fans and signed a few autographs, before joining Candice Michelle, who had dressed in white, and Torrie Wilson, who had dressed in blue. "How was the rest of the party?" Cassie inquired.

"Good," Candice replied. "Carlito got Trish topless."

"Wow. Only took him what?"

"Four hours?" They laughed.

"Who all is here?" Cassie inquired.

"Booker, Sharmell, Cena, Shawn, Kurt, Vis, Maria, MNM, Kristal, all the McMahons, Triple H. They're all here." Cassie nodded. "Batista is scheduled to be here, but nobody's seen him yet. Come on, let's go inside." Cassie nodded and followed the two Divas into the theater.

"Wow, Cass, you're looking hot tonight."

"Thanks, Cena. You're looking like you're ready to wrestle."

They all had a good laugh. "I'm sitting with HBK," Cena told her. "You wanna join us?"

"Sit beside the two greatest Superstars in the history of this industry? Hell yeah, I wanna join." Linking arms with Cena and Michaels, Cassie sauntered past MNM and shot Melina an icy look before they walked into the theater. Melina only glared back.

Batista was running slightly late. wanted to talk to him about his knock-down, drag-out brawl with Booker T several hours before at the photo shoot. It was no big deal, just a couple of boys being boys. But Batista was now unable to locate Cassie and the cinema was dark to indicate that the movie had started.

He saw the hair gleaming in the light and saw that she had Cena and Michaels seated on her left. The right side was empty, and he was pretty sure that she had made sure she saved that spot for him. Moving swiftly, he moved into the back row and sat down next to Cassie.

"You made it," she whispered.

"Yeah. just wanted to talk to me," he informed her. She nodded and they settled down to watch the movie that was "See No Evil".


	20. the return

Sorry it's been a few days for me to update – school work is a killer! I want to say thank you to everybody who's been reading and reviewing. You guys rock!

Chapter Twenty: The Return

July seventh.

Cassie had been waiting for this day for months. Now she stood in front of the mirror in the shower area, dressed in nothing more than a light blue lace underwear set, holding different dresses to her body to decide which would look better for tonight.

He was coming back. She had every intention of making it a night to remember. Their official website had been addressing rumors that Batista would be calling out Mark Henry. He hadn't arrived yet; they had Josh Mathews posting watch outside the door, waiting for a glimpse of the former champion. He, in turn, said he would phone her on her cell when Batista arrived.

She couldn't decide. The baby pink was nice, but she didn't like the bow under the breast line. The black was nice, but did the neckline plunge too much? The red was gorgeous, but how much leg should she be showing off. Wow, this was getting confusing.

"Cass?"

The voice of Jillian Hall. She breathed a sigh of relief. Last thing she wanted was him coming in here while she was standing in her underwear and a pair of black stilettos.

"Jillian, help me!" Cassie cried out, her voice taking on a slight twinge of laughter. Jillian rushed in, dressed in a black T-shirt and white miniskirt. Jillian saw the dresses and sighed.

"You really are hopeless, you know," Jillian informed her.

"That's nice. Help me."

Jillian laughed. "Let's look at them." She examined the dresses against Cassie's body, laughing at Cassie the entire time. "I have to say, go with the red."

"Thanks, Jill. You're a lifesaver," Cassie informed her, sliding the spaghetti strapped dress over her head. She smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles and fixed the black rose that was perched atop the slit. The dress fell down to her knees, and the slit went up to a few inches below the waist. She loved the way that the scarlet material sparkled, and she stopped to admire it for a few minutes in the mirror. "Think I look okay?"

"Wow. Look at you. And just to think, a good seven months ago, you were just hating his guts."

"Past that," she replied airily, putting on her mascara. She quickly brushed out her hair and styled it around her face, then set about applying the dark red lipstick to her lips. She clasped on her diamond bracelet, put on the matching necklace and earrings and she examined herself in the mirror. "Do I look all right?"

"Yeah," Jillian replied. "I doubt he'll care, Cass. He'll just be happy to see you."

"I know," she admitted. "The last time we saw each other was when he punched out the King." They laughed. King Booker was now their champion, and with nobody as a real front-runner in the competition, Batista's impending return was nothing more than a breath of fresh air to the WWE roster.

"You spoken to Cena lately?" Jillian inquired. Cassie nodded.

"Yeah. I talk to him at least once a week. It's starting to get sparse, though. His schedule is straight up crammed. Marine appearances, magazine covers, TV shows, sometimes I wonder how the hell that man can do it."

"It has to be the fans new attitudes towards him," Jillian told her. "They say that jealousy can fuel somebody to greater heights."

"I wouldn't doubt that with John," Cassie replied, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She could hear the ringtone of "Bodies" filling the locker room. "That has to be Josh." She bolted past a laughing Jillian and answered the phone. "Hello?" she listened for a few minutes as Jillian watched intently. "Okay. Thanks for letting me know." She hung up.

"Batista's here?" Jillian asked.

"No," Cassie pouted. "It was my mom. She took my dog to the vet." Her dog, Chintzy, was having an operation to remove a tumor. The dog usually stayed with her mother when she was on the road. Jillian laughed.

"You're going to die of a heart attack by the time he gets here," Jillian commented. "Would you just sit down and relax?"

"I can't," Cassie admitted. "I'm just...I feel so nervous."

"Don't be," Jillian told her, exasperated. "You carded tonight?"

"No. But I have a match next week against Ms. McCool," Cassie told her with a roll of her eyes. Since her return, Michelle had been making life difficult on a lot of other Divas. Ashley Massaro, especially. It didn't help that Jillian, Ashley and Cassie were all good friends. Jillian and Cassie especially. Ashley was still relatively new to SmackDown. Her contract had expired with Raw, and, being sick of being beaten down by Mickie James, she opted to come to SmackDown. But with Michelle McCool coming in, she's been doing nothing but tormenting Ashley. To top it off, she joined forces with fellow Diva Search reject Kristal and they were trying to wreak havoc on SmackDown's meager women's division. Cassie was just staying off to the sidelines on this one, letting the two blonde Divas deal with the rejects. It seemed to be paying off as well; Jillian and Ashley had been handing the Divas their asses.

Her cell phone rang again. She looked at the caller ID. Didn't register. "Hello? Hey. He is? Thanks, Josh."

Batista returned backstage, riding high with adrenaline. He had just beaten and bloodied Mark Henry, forcing the big man to be taken to the trainer's office to be fixed up. Now, he was walking through the arena, having since changed into a white beater shirt with a white suit, and he was making his way towards the Divas locker room.

He knocked and Jillian answered the door. "Thank God you're finally here," Jillian replied. "She's been driving me insane." Batista smirked, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he made his way past her and into the locker room.

When she saw him, she shrieked in delight and ran to him, giving him a huge hug. With a small kiss on his lips, she smiled and said, "I've been waiting for you. What took you so long?"

He stared at the dress. "I figured you might look nice, so I wanted to make sure I didn't ruin it."

"What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Then let's head out. Paint the town red," she replied. She looked down at her dress and laughed. "Literally." With smiles and laughs, they linked arms and left the locker room, leaving Jillian to shake her head in amazement.


	21. Uh Oh

Thanks to Daddy's Lil Heartbreaker. Your review straight up made my day. I hope everybody enjoys this chapter.

**Chapter Twenty one: Uh-oh**

The first thing Cassie was greeted with when she woke up on Wednesday morning was a throbbing headache. Maybe not throbbing. Pounding. The clock was defiantly glaring at her with a red nine-thirty, and the pale sunlight poured through the window onto the bed.

She didn't remember last night. She got completely drunk – something that she normally doesn't do – but last night was special. Stretching out, she cried out in sheer pain when she gave herself a Charley horse. She sat up, and let out another exclamation when she saw the big guy beside her. He was already awake though.

"Oh, my God..." she laughed, a hand to her forehead. Her headache suddenly seemed a thousand times worse. "Oh, my God. Wow..."

Her reaction was so priceless that even he had to chuckle as he sat up. She stared at him, laughing from shock and not humor. "Oh, my God. Did we...?"

"I think so," he admitted. "To be honest, I think I was just as smashed as you were last night."

"You don't remember either?"

"I remember we came back in here, but I don't remember anything after that."

"Oh, God..." she had her head in her hands.

"What's the big deal? I mean, we are seeing each other..."

"Well, we haven't been for that long, have we?"

"I've been counting since January. You going from last night or something?"

She put her head in her hands. "I can't believe this," she murmured. She looked down at her nightgown, which was stained with drinks. "We had more when we got back here?"

"Yeah, my head's telling me that much," he answered.

"Wow. We must have been pretty loaded last night," she replied. She slowly got out of bed, her joints and bones aching like nothing she had ever experienced before. She almost toppled down from her leg. She couldn't stop her bouts of sporadic laughter; after all, it's not every morning she wakes up after a night of heavy partying beside Dave Batista. She went to her suitcase and pulled out her clothing for the day. "I am going to get dressed," she announced. She was so damn confused. "When I come back out, we're going to regroup and try and piece together what happened last night."

"I wouldn't," he replied. "It's not like we're going to remember. We got smashed, we're here."

"That's not the point," she insisted from the bathroom. He had a wide smile on his face; he was pretty sure he remembered what happened. He just wasn't sure. And if she was reacting like this...

"What is the point, Cass? It's no big deal."

"No big deal? Dave, I at least want to remember what happened with us!" she exclaimed, emerging from the bathroom. She had dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a baby pink tank top. "God, I never get like that."

"Like what?"

"So drunk I wouldn't remember who I slept with!" she exclaimed.

"Shh!" he shushed her. "You might want to watch how loudly you say that."

She sank down on the bed, shaking her head and laughing. "Wow. This is weird."

"Come on," he told her. "Let's go for breakfast."

When the two of them came down into the restaurant together, Cassie spotted Jillian eating breakfast with JBL and Michael Cole. She shot a look of suspicion at a hungover Cassie, who could only shrug. Jillian smiled, prompting the two commentators to look at Cassie and Batista. "Wow, don't I feel like the center of attention?" he joked softly into her ear.

"Let's go join them," Cassie replied. They made their way through and pulled up two chairs to their table.

"Morning, Cassie, Batista. How was your night last night?" JBL inquired, shooting a look at Jillian, who was staring into her scrambled eggs with a wide smirk on her face.

"Good...I think," Cassie murmured. She ordered a cup of coffee and some bacon and eggs. Batista ordered the same.

"Don't remember?" JBL teased.

"Actually, no."

"That's too bad. You guys were really entertaining last night." They stared at JBL.

"What? You were there?"

"Hell, Jillian and I go there all the time. Not to mention Rey was there with Gregory and Matt, and they saw you guys. I think it was around your sixth Long Island iced tea that you and Batista went out on the dance floor." JBL laughed at the memory. "That was too funny." The two of them opted to let him leave it at that. No need for elaboration. Batista was laughing as Cassie bowed her head behind her hand, her face going as red as her dress last night. The waitress placed their breakfasts in front of them.

"Then I snapped a photo on my phone and sent it to Ash, who sent it to Hunter, who probably sent it to Vince," she replied, relishing Cassie's embarrassment as only a friend could. Cassie was absolutely horrified. Everybody else seemed to be having fun with it.

"Wonderful," was all Cassie could murmur, sipping at her coffee. She grimaced; it tasted like motor oil.

"That's okay, don't be embarrassed, Cassie, you should have seen what happened when you came back here. Booker, Sharmell, and London saw you two making out in the hallway."

"Oh, my God..." Cassie was mortified. "Do I have to hear this, you guys? I'll be getting enough of it on Tuesday night." She shot a glance at Batista, who was shaking his head, laughing.

"Hey, you were telling us you were going to give the Big Guy here a night to remember," JBL teased. Batista stared at her, eyebrow cocked, with a smirk on his face.

"Isn't it ironic how she wanted to give him a night to remember and now neither of them remember?" Jillian asked. Michael Cole started laughing, along with JBL. And with JBL believing the philosophy of "Everything's bigger in Texas", the people the turned around and stared at all of them.

"Hell, last night, I think you two put Edge and Lita to shame with your live celebration!" Michael replied. Cassie and Batista shot a look at each other that said it all – things were bad if Michael Cole was picking on them. The table was in hysterics, and Cassie and Batista just sat there and took it, realizing that the previous night, a lot of things had happened, and it only directed her to believe that more than a little bit of a make out session had happened.


	22. Saturday Night's Main Event

**Chapter Twenty-Two: Saturday Night's Main Event**

"Wow. It's great to be back. I missed this in March."

"So did I. I was in Spain."

Batista and Cassie were in his locker room. It had been about a week or two since the "Nightclub Incident" as WWE Superstars and Divas were referring to it. Cassie was still having a tough time making eye contact with people. Mr. McMahon was even picking on her. You knew that things were bad when you were wishing you were getting fired. Triple H had called Batista and talked shop with him a little bit like only two men could. She was glad she wasn't there for that conversation. She was still embarrassed enough. Anyway, it was probably better that she wasn't there; Batista might have walked himself into hot water.

"You going to be okay?" he asked her. She stared up at him and nodded. "Cass, don't worry about all this."

"I can't help it," she admitted, embarrassed. "I mean, Dave, that's a big thing to happen and not remember it."

"I know," he replied, running a hand through her hair. "But I'm sure whatever happened, it was good."

"That makes me feel much better. Thanks," she replied bitterly. "Let's just drop the subject. You ready for the six man?"

"Yeah. Mark Henry is going to get his ass kicked." He was already in his gear, the black trunks, boots and elbow pads. She had decided to dress up as a country girl, her hair in braided pigtails, denim shorts and a plaid pink button-down T-shirt tied above her belly button. There was the Diva bull-riding contest later that night, and although Cassie was not enthused about riding a mechanical bull with every other WWE Diva, she was still a Diva and had to partake in the event. ECW's Kelly was going to be there, along with Raw's Victoria, Torrie, Candice and SmackDown's Ashley, Michelle, Kristal, Jillian and Cassie. The liquored-up men at the arena were already catcalling for Divas, and Cassie felt like she could hear them. She shuddered.

"If it's any consolation, you look hot," he told her, reading her thoughts.

"No, it's not, but thanks," she replied. "I have to get going; I have to get my cues and stuff for this." She went to leave, but he blocked her way. She smiled. "Dave, I need to go..." She leaned up and kissed him, reaching behind his back to open the door. When it swung open, she slowly made her way past him.

"That's not fair!" he replied.

"Told you, I have to go," she answered with that drop-dead smile he loved so much. "Good luck tonight."

"You too." She was thankful there was no follow-up comment with mechanical bulls or anything. She just nodded and took off down the hallway.

The Divas were laughing and chatting when Cassie joined them.

"Where were you?" Candice asked.

"Just seeing Batista off before his match," she replied.

"That's what I told them," Ashley replied.

"I informed them it might not be a good idea to go in there for a little bit," Jillian told her. The Divas laughed, and Cassie couldn't help it; she laughed too.

"You guys are all horrible," she laughed.

"If we're so horrible," Torrie asked, "then why are you laughing?"

"Cause I'm getting used to this," she replied, and they all laughed. "God, was it really that bad?"

"Not so much bad as funny as hell," Jillian answered. Photos of the night out had since leaked to the Internet and to the cell phones of other Divas. Kelly's music played. She was the first one up. With a small smile, the ECW exhibitionist walked out through the curtains, smiling.

"I wish I was on SmackDown just for this," Candice replied.

"I wish I was on Raw so I could kick your ass," replied Cassie. The Divas were laughing, but Cassie was serious. She didn't like Candice. Candice got the hint and went quiet.

"Anybody else interested in my personal life?" she inquired. The Divas went quiet. After a few weeks, Cassie was tired of this. She knew exactly how Lita felt now when the story of her and Edge broke. It's a pain in the ass.

Cassie's theme played and she walked out to the large crowd, with a wide smile on her face and waving to the crowd.

"Wow, isn't she touchy?" Candice pouted.

"To be fair, she has had to put up with everybody bugging her for two weeks," Jillian replied. "Mr. McMahon himself has been picking on her."

"Wow," Victoria said. "You know things are bad when the Chairman razzes you."

"Worse than that," Ashley told them, "Michael Cole has got a couple good ones in there on her, too." The Divas all "oohed" in horror. Even the Divas knew that things were not good when Michael Cole could make a good insult about you. It was one thing to be the butt of JBL or John Cena's jokes, but when it came down to Michael Cole or Josh Mathews, that wasn't good.

Cassie had lost the bull-riding contest, like she thought she would. Michelle won it. She was walking down the hall when she ran into John Cena. He smiled at her.

"Hey."

"Hi, Cena. How are you?"

"Good. About to get my championship back," he replied. "Hey, uh, great job with the Animal."

"Oh, God, not you, too."

"We've all heard the stories, we've all seen the pictures," he informed her. "It's not that bad."

"Not that bad?" she asked. She wasn't about to confess to him what she thought had happened.

"Oh, come on. You're not the first girl to get drunk and sleep with someone," he told her. She laughed at his point-blank bluntness. That's the one thing that she had always admired in John Cena; his ability to straight-shoot with her. "Now, if you were Lita, and had another man at the time, then that might be different. Just lighten up."

"Cena, Michael Cole made fun of me."

"Ouch," he replied. "That's not good. Was he with JBL?"

"Yeah."

"Next time that happens, make a few Billy and Chuck type comments to Cole. He'll drop it, no problem." She laughed. "Just lighten up. It's not as bad as you think. Anyway, Batista is head over heels for ya, and I doubt he's really complaining all that much."

"I'd imagine not," she replied, her voice a mutter.

"That's the spirit," he joked and she couldn't help but laugh. "Chill out. It's not the end of the world. Anyway, after eight months, go for the gusto. It's your life." She smiled. "Now, I have to go out there and beat Edge's ass."

"Good luck out there tonight," she told him. He nodded and left her for the confines of the ring, where his champion opponent would momentarily join him.

She went to Batista's locker room to find Mr. McMahon there as well. He stopped and turned to Cassie. "Cassie, hello! How are you tonight?"

"I'm good, Mr. McMahon, and yourself?"

"Terrific. I was just about to tell Batista here about the Great American Bash snag."

"Snag?" she inquired. "What happened?"

"Mark Henry tore his kneecap to shit, and now we don't have an opponent for Batista at the Great American Bash."

"That's awful," she replied. Batista stared at her. "I mean, that you don't have an opponent, Dave. What do you have planned?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I think I will leave that up to Teddy's discretion." They nodded. "Now, I need to go talk to Rey and Chavo. Have yourselves a nice night," he replied, raising his eyes at Cassie.

"Thanks, Mr. McMahon," she replied through clenched teeth. "You, too." He left and Batista turned to her.

"Seem a little defensive tonight," he replied. "What's up?"

"I'm just sick of being picked on. I'm trying to take it in good nature, really, but it's like, fuck, what's the big deal? This is no different than the time that Lilian got plastered in London and almost missed Raw."

"Yeah, but this time around you wound up with me," he reminded her.

"Oh, like everyone is really surprised," she replied. He laughed.

"True enough," he said, "but just chill out. It'll fly by."

"Dave, Cena even knows about it!"

"Well, we are a family here. It does travel fast."

"You're telling me," she replied. "Like, oh my God."

"That's okay. I went on the computer the other day, and you wouldn't believe how much it blew up over the Internet." She groaned. "You know you're pregnant?"

She laughed. "Am I?" she inquired. Batista nodded. She laughed. "Jesus." She continued to laugh.

"That's okay. Apparently I popped the question upon hearing the news," he told her. They laughed.

"Where the hell do they get this news?" she asked, wiping a tear from her eye.

"I don't know," Batista replied. "But we could sure use writers like that on SmackDown!" They broke into another fit of laughter.

"What do you think will happen for the Great American Bash?" she asked. Batista shrugged.

"I don't know. But with my return, I know they're not going to leave me off the card. I don't know. Some young, snot-nosed little punk will probably run his mouth and I'll get stuck with that." She nodded. "Sucks, though. I really wanted Mark Henry in the ring."

"I know, but think, he came back in December after being gone for about two-three years, and now he's out again after six months. It's a little poetic that he hurts you and then he gets hurt, right?"

He nodded, a smile crossing his face. "How about we get out of here?"

"Don't get any ideas in mind, Dave," she replied coyly, but nonetheless grabbed her bags and they left together.


	23. Impulsive

There's another story that I want to work on. I have mad ideas with this new one. So if you guys are feeling a sequel, then let me know, and I'll work on it when I finish the next one. So, here you go. Enjoy the finale. It's called Deadly Game, so give it a check out. Thanks to Miss-Philippines-SuperStar, Daddy's Lil Heartbreaker, hello-mrs.-rita, and socalledsara for your reviews. They really mean a lot. Anybody I forgot, sorry, I don't have everybody written down.

**Chapter Twenty-Three: Impulsive**

SmackDown had rolled into the MGM Grand for a special edition of SmackDown. Batista and Cassie were in his locker room, watching the show. He had his arm around her, her head was rested on his shoulder. It had been a long couple weeks, but the fervor that had broken out regarding what had happened between them had gone down.

Things had quieted down between the two of them, though, and Cassie could admit she didn't like it all that much. In a span of two months, they had gone from being hotter than Edge and Lita, and become as dull as Booker T and Sharmell. She was sure Batista was sensing it, too, but with their schedules and the fact that they kept sending her halfway around the world for promotions, they really didn't have that much time to say anything to each other. And when they did get back together, all they really did was sleep.

"You feel like going out tonight?" he asked her. She stared at him. She was exhausted, but she was fresh back from Cheyenne, Wyoming. He was off of the recent leg of house shows.

"Yeah," she replied, "interact with some of our fan counterparts."

"Get a little wild tonight," he replied.

"Oh, no, we don't," she replied. "Remember what happened last time?"

"No. That's the point." She laughed.

"We'll just go out and enjoy ourselves. Capiche?"

"Oh, all right," he grumbled.

They arrived at the club, and promptly went to a table. Jillian and Ashley were there, so they joined them. The guys were hitting on Ashley immensely, and Ashley was starting to get annoyed. "Out for round two?" Jillian teased.

"Funny," she replied.

"I try," Jillian replied, sipping her margarita. "Any plans for tonight?"

"I thought I'd break out some whips and chains in the halls of the hotel, just to give you guys a good show," Cassie replied. Batista just about spit out his drink and the Divas laughed. "You know, cause my personal life is just so damn fascinating."

"That it is," Ashley agreed, laughing into her drink. "But, I have to say, Dave, that was pretty priceless. You okay?"

"Mmm-hmm," he replied, still staring at Cassie. "Do you even own anything like that?"

"I'm not going to answer that," she replied, blushing. She sure walked into that.

"Can you tell me later?" Man, he was persistent.

"Okay," she agreed. That seemed to pacify him, well, until the song "Walk" by Pantera came on.

"This song is a classic!" Ashley called out. They all filed onto the dance floor where Cassie and Batista stood in the crowd, moshing with Ashley and Jillian. Batista moved closer to Cassie.

"After this song, let's get out of here," he told her. She nodded. True to her word, when the chords died out on "Walk", she said her goodbyes to the Divas and followed Batista out.

They were in his silver convertible rental car, smiling, laughing, as the mellow chords of "Numb/Encore" played on the radio. He was staring at her differently, a wide grin tugging at his lips. She smiled back at him, feeling slightly uncomfortable under his intense gaze. "Okay, Dave, I know that look. What is it?"

"How would you like to do something wild and crazy?" he asked.

"What do you have in mind?"

"That's not the point, Cass. Let's do something spontaneous. Something that will shock the hell out of everybody."

"Okay, Dave. Let's go for it. Do it."

"Really?" he asked. She nodded.

"Let's shock the world." He nodded, and that's when he turned the convertible into the drive-thru chapel.


End file.
